Save Me From Myself
by drarryxon
Summary: After Harry loses Cedric to Voldemort, the only person he really has to turn to is the snarky Draco Malfoy. Can Draco keep Harry sane? Cedric/Harry, Draco/Harry - ON HIATUS
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: This story begins as Cedric/Harry through flashbacks, but winds up as Harry/Draco. It will be rated M from the beginning. I've never written slash before, so please bear with me. I would very much like some criticism. I've read a lot of Slash so I tried to take what I've read and use some of that experience.  
>I am not Jo Rowling, nor have I ever been, and this is purely fan fiction, nothing more.<strong>

_Chapter One_

Harry stared out at the horizon that lay over the Black Lake. The morning air was cool and crisp, and frost glittered upon the glass like little diamonds.

Every morning since the start of term, Harry had found himself out here, watching the sunrise, wand clutched in hand while his mind replayed the memories he had of Cedric.

_Cedric._

Harry sighed and wiped away the stray tear that had crept past his eyelashes. After Cedric died at the hands of Voldemort during the Triwizard Tournament, Harry had practically receded into himself.

_Flashback_

Cedric approached Harry in the hallway and pulled him off to the side. He smiled, and Harry's belly did a small back flip.

"I'd like to thank you for tipping me off about the dragons, Harry," Cedric said, placing a hand on Harry's shoulder.

"You don't have to."

"I want do," Cedric insisted, smiling again. "You know about the Prefect's Bathroom on the fifth floor? You should take your egg and, er, mull things over in the hot water." Harry quirked an eyebrow. "The password is _pine fresh_."

"Well, thanks, I guess?" Harry wasn't quite sure what to make of this advice. He was trying to keep images of Cedric Diggory immersed in a bathtub from flooding his mind.

Cedric chuckled. "I'll see you around, Harry."

Harry watched him depart with a twinge of longing. The whole of Hogwarts knew that Cedric Diggory preferred men to women, but no one knew that Harry had recently discovered his sexuality the previous year. Not even Ron and Hermione knew.

Later that night, Harry slipped into the massive Prefect's bath, and slid his golden egg towards him. He glanced around the room. Surely the screams would echo?

"I must be going barmy," Harry muttered, and twisted the latch upon his egg.

A horrible, keening screech filled the bathroom, and for a moment, Harry thought his eardrums had ruptured. He slammed the egg closed and glared at it for a moment.

"I'd try putting it in the water, if I were you."

Harry leapt a mile out of his skin as Cedric came slinking into the bathroom. Harry turned the color of Ron's hair. He was naked, and here was the highly attractive seventeen-year-old boy that he would absolutely love to snog senseless—if he knew how to do that, that is.

"Ced-Cedric. What are you doing in here?" Harry pulled some of the bubbles closer to his body, hoping to hide the flush that was creeping down his chest.

Cedric chuckled and removed his school robes. Harry's eyes widened. "Well, this _is_ the Prefect's Bathroom, and I _am_ a Prefect." Cedric was now removing his jumper, and Harry was adorning a full-blown erection. He thanked whatever God he could think of that he had put so many bubbles into the tub.

When Cedric removed his pants, Harry had to look away, or he was going to leap from the water and jump the boy. He finally managed to look back when he heard the sound of water sloshing due to someone getting into the tub. Cedric smirked at him, and he felt heat pooling in his groin.

Cedric gestured to the egg that was still in Harry's grip. "Try putting it in the water."

"In the water?" He had to sound so stupid; he knew it. Cedric smiled and nodded.

"Yes, Harry. _In _the water." He was trying not to laugh.

"Shut up," Harry quipped, smiling back. He submerged the egg in the soapy, scented water and opened it. To his surprise, no muffled screams came from underneath the water. Instead, what sounded like a beautiful song was drifting to Harry's ears. He took a deep breath, and sank underneath the water.

_Come seek us where our voices sound; we cannot sing above the ground. An hour long you'll have to look, to recover what we took._

Once the song ended, Harry looked up and nearly began to drown.

There, right in front of him, was Cedric Diggory's penis. He was going to die, he was sure of it. Harry came up for air, coughing and spluttering, while Cedric sat there on the carved marble bench, as though he had no cares in the world.

"So?" he finally asked once Harry finished trying to cough up his lungs.

"Cedric, are there merpeople in the Black Lake?" Harry asked, trying to combat his blush.

"Among other things, yes. You are too smart for your own good, Harry," Cedric said, taking the egg from Harry and setting it upon the ledge of the bath. It rolled away and hit the wall with a metallic _thunk_. Cedric moved closer to Harry until he was a mere few inches from him.

"Cedric, what—" The older boy cut Harry off by pressing a long finger to his lips. Harry was beginning to think he was hallucinating.

"If you don't want me to, Harry, just say so," Cedric murmured before leaning in to press his lips to Harry's.

Warmth flooded Harry's senses, drowning out everything else in the world. All that was there was the feel for Cedric's lips against his own, the hands that were sliding up his torso and then through his hair...

_End Flashback_

Harry glanced down, surprised he hadn't snapped his wand in half with the upset that was coursing through his veins and throbbing in his mind. The crack of a twig somewhere behind him alerted him to the presence of another. He didn't even bother to turn around.

A moment later, none other than Draco Malfoy had sat down beside him. Harry cast a sideways glance at the blond boy next to him. He looked different without Crabbe and Goyle glued to his backside. Draco was leaning back on his hands and staring up at the vast sky above them, which was growing lighter by the minute.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" Harry asked, not even attempting to inject the usual hatred into the question. He couldn't be arsed.

"To have a nice day today," Draco said nonchalantly. "To get good O.W.L.s." He turned to look at Harry, a small flicker of humor in his grey eyes. "What about you?"

"It wasn't a friendly question, Malfoy."

Draco sighed. "Why can't it be?" Harry looked at him like he'd sprouted Devil's Snare for a nose.

"Are you seriously asking me that question?" Harry asked Malfoy, incredulity evident in his voice.

"Yes, I seriously am." Draco waited for a moment while Harry just stared at him, waiting for someone to pop from the bushes and yell "gotcha!"

"I dunno, maybe because you're a right foul git, and we hate each other?" Harry offered, staring at Malfoy with a look of pure distrust.

Draco ignored the jibe to his character and carried on. "Well, I don't hate you, if that makes you feel any better about the obvious shit day you're having."

"Alright, come off it. How much were you paid to sit here in my presence and annoy me?" Harry growled. He just wanted to be _alone_.

"I'm here on my own, Potter," Draco drawled, picking at a blade of grass. The frost had melted and it was covered in droplets of water. "No one knows where I am. I've been wandering since the early hours of the morning."

"Do you sleep?" Harry asked, meaning for it to come out more insulting than that. Draco noticed the change in tone.

"Not really, no. Not when I can help it." Harry raised an eyebrow, but Malfoy left it at that.

A long moment of silence passed between them before Malfoy resumed the regime of annoyance.

"So what brings you out here on this relatively soggy day, oh, Chosen One?"

Harry glared at Malfoy. "Never you mind." He turned back to stare at the dazzling light that was splayed across the surface of the Black Lake.

The next time Draco spoke, his voice was quiet, timid. Almost unsure. "Is it because of him? Harry's entire body went stiff, and a mixture of terror and anger swept through his stomach.

"What did you just say?" Harry asked through gritted teeth.

"Are you out here because of him?" Draco asked again. "Because of Ced—"

Within seconds, Harry was on his feet, wand pressed to the side of Draco's head. Draco's eyes widened in shock.

"Don't you _ever_ say his name, you hear me? Just _don't_." Harry stormed away, leaving a stunned Draco in his shadow.


	2. Chapter 2

_I apologize for the sudden re-writing of this story, but I feel as if I cocked it all up. I've done some serious thinking and I'm working more on my description and more on the actual summary of the story itself within the story, if that just made any sense. I am still without a Beta Reader *curse all of you* and any mistakes are my own. _

_Chapter Two_

After Harry had all but flown away from the Black Lake, Draco stayed for a while longer, thinking to himself and tossing rocks. He hadn't meant to upset Potter like that; he'd had no idea that he was going to react like that.

Draco figured that he was the only other person that knew about the relationship Cedric and Harry had had. He had walked up on the two talking closer than was deemed heterosexually appropriate during the Yule Ball. As he had watched in fascination, Diggory had kissed Potter full on the mouth and then lead him off somewhere into the darkness.

Draco didn't actually think about outing Potter, and he vaguely wondered if being around Gryffindorks for four years was beginning to addle his brain. Usually he would jump upon any chance to humiliate and upset Potter, but this… this was _too_ personal.

ϟϟϟ

Harry was fuming as he marched across the school grounds. The sun was now fully in the sky.

Who did Malfoy think he was? He had no right to say Cedric's name! His father belonged to the group that _worshiped_ the man that had killed him! He shouldn't even _know_ about Harry and Cedric.

Harry shot a spell at a rock and watched it shatter into millions of tiny pieces. He felt a small twinge of satisfaction. He continued towards the castle. People would be waking up by now, and he really didn't want Ron and Hermione to badger him about where he'd been.

The next morning found Harry sitting at the edge of the lake once more, despite what had happened with Malfoy the day before. He was drawing lazy shapes in the air in front of him with his wand.

Harry really hoped that he would be left alone today. When he had gotten back to the common room in a rage, Hermione and Ron had proceeded to question him until he had stormed away from them as well. He sighed. If he wasn't careful, he really would end up alone.

_Flashback_

Harry caught Cedric's eye as he passed him in the hallway. Cedric flashed a brilliant smile towards Harry, and he thought he might melt right there on the spot.

"Meet me later," Cedric mouthed to Harry, and he nodded before continuing towards Transfiguration. He vaguely wondered what Cedric wanted, and he hoped that it wouldn't just be to talk.

As he entered the Transfiguration classroom, he blushed at his thoughts and took his seat next to Ron and Hermione.

"What's got you all worked up?" Ron asked as Harry busied himself getting his Transfiguration book from his bag.

"Nothing, nothing," Harry murmured, hoping that Ron would drop it. Neither he nor Hermione knew about the budding relationship between him and Cedric. He quite wanted to keep it that way, for now, at least. He wasn't quite sure how his best friends would take to him being gay, and having a relationship with the other Hogwarts Champion (even though Harry wasn't even supposed to be a champion).

When the last bell rang, Harry sped out of Potions like his life depended on it. He spat some excuse about needing to talk to Moody to Ron before heading off to the owlery to talk to Cedric.

Before Harry could even make his way fully through the door, Cedric had enveloped him in a bone-crushing hug. Harry felt the warmth spread all throughout his body as the form of the taller boy moulded to his own.

"Hey," Harry said when Cedric let him go. Cedric responded with a light peck to Harry's lips. Harry responded enthusiastically.

"Hey, yourself," Cedric said.

"So, did you want to talk to me about something?" Harry questioned, leaning against a window of the owlery.

"Yeah. You know how the Yule Ball is coming up in a few weeks?" Harry nodded, curious as to where this was going. "Well, Cho Chang asked me to go to the ball with her... and, well, I said yes." Cedric looked like he wanted to do anything but go to the ball with Cho. "I promise you, nothing will happen. It's just... We can't exactly be open about this. You said yourself that you're not ready."

Harry smiled. "I understand, Cedric. I do." The anguish on Cedric's face disappeared with Harry's assurance.

"Really? Are you sure you're okay with this?"

Harry kissed Cedric's cheek and then sighed heavily. "Yes. I'm sure. But I guess I'm going to have to find a date of my own, then."

On the night of the Yule Ball, Harry found himself in the Great Hall, accompanied by Parvati Patil. Draco Malfoy shot Harry a confused look when he continued looking at Cedric repeatedly. He scowled and ignored him. Malfoy had no business butting into Harry's personal life.

As the night progressed, Cedric danced with Cho a few times, and Harry only danced with Parvati once, causing her to depart with a boy from Beauxbatons.

"I'm going to get some punch," Harry told Ron, who was pouting over the fact that Hermione had shown up with Viktor Krum.

"Alright, yeah," Ron muttered sulkily, and Harry headed over to the refreshment table where Cedric was currently residing without Cho.

"Hello," Harry said to Cedric, sipping a glass of pumpkin juice. "How's your night going?"

Cedric leaned into Harry, as if he were reaching for something. "I quite wish I had brought you instead of Cho," Cedric confessed. Harry brightened. "She keeps trying to kiss me, and every time I tell her no, she gets angry and stomps away, only to come back minutes later to try again."

Harry quite wanted to hex Cho Chang at this moment in time, but Cedric broke his concentration with a low whisper that was directed into his ear. "Meet me outside in five minutes."

"Alright," Harry murmured, and headed back to where Ron was now fighting with Hermione.

"...The enemy? Who was it that was wanting is autograph?" Hermione asked shrilly. Harry suddenly wished he hadn't come back this way. "This whole tournament is about international magical co-operation; to make friends."

"Yeah, well, I think he's got a bit more than friendship on his mind," Ron snapped back. Hermione gasped and stalked away, her periwinkle dress fluttering in her wake. Harry didn't even return to the table; instead he headed towards the courtyard and waited for Cedric to show up.

Harry jumped when two arms encircled his waist.

"Jumpy, are we?"

"Cedric, you scared me!" Harry laughed.

"Expecting someone else?" Cedric joked.

"I was expecting Pansy Parkinson, the love of my life." Cedric gagged from his spot behind Harry.

"What a disgusting image." Harry turned to see Cedric smiling down at him.

Harry sighed. "I wish that we could have come together." He pressed his face into the warmth of Cedric's neck. Burly arms squeezed him tight.

"So do I," Cedric confessed, "but we can't profess our love just yet." Harry chuckled. "Maybe once the tournament is over, things can change."

"I'd like that," Harry mused before leaning up to kiss Cedric on the mouth. When warm mouth met warm mouth, Harry groaned quietly. He could feel the older boy's lips curl into a smile against his own.

Cedric grabbed his hand and dragged him off into the darkness of the night. "Come on."

"Where are we going?" Harry asked as Cedric pulled them through the light dusting of snow that covered the ground. They headed towards one of the empty carriages. Harry blushed, and his insides squirmed.

Cedric cast a small charm on the carriage before crawling in. Harry followed him. He was filled to the brim with nerves.

"What was that spell you cast?" Harry asked once the door had shut behind them. Even in the darkness, Harry could see that Cedric was blushing a little.

"It's to stabilize the carriage... So that it won't shake." Harry coughed a little as realization dawned upon him. "That is, if you want to. You don't have to do anything you don't want."

Harry leaned so close to Cedric that he could feel his breath flowing across his face. It smelled like mint.

"Don't worry; I want to."

Harry closed the remaining distance between him and Cedric. The kiss started out slow, with hesitant, open-mouthed kisses. Once brief touches of tongue met each other, the kiss picked up, increasing to an almost fevered pace. Cedric peeled off the outer layer of Harry's bottle-green dress robes and let them fall to the floor of the cabin, leaving Harry in a white button-up shirt and black dress trousers. Harry quickly ridded Cedric of his own outer robe before lips descended upon his neck. He let out a low whimper, which progressed into a full-blown moan when his shirt began to be unbuttoned by deft Seeker's fingers. This was really going to happen.

Harry found a way to straddle Cedric's waist without killing them both in the cramped space; he ground their erections together, and both boys moaned loudly. Cedric firmly grasped Harry's waist as he continued to roll his hips back and forth against the other boy's. "If you don't stop that, Harry, this will end even before it begins."

"I'm finding that I don't exactly mind that," Harry gasped against Cedric's mouth.

Cedric chuckled. "I can tell, but what I have in mind is much, much better for us." Harry shivered in anticipation.

Once Harry's pants were on the ground, and Cedric's were around his knees, Cedric whispered,

"Are you sure that you're ready for this?" With Cedric's and his own erection pressed fully against each other, Harry knew that he wouldn't be able to say no. He nodded furiously.

"Please. I want this; I want you."

Cedric pressed his wand to the tip of his hand, and murmured an incantation. A moment later, long, lubricated fingers probed at Harry's entrance. He gasped and arched his back. One finger slipped past the tight ring of muscles, aiming to stretch Harry for the oncoming intrusion. After the initial burning sensation began to go away, pleasure began to set in.

"More," Harry moaned, trying to thrust down upon Cedric's hand. The older of the two added two more fingers and scissored them. Harry was practically writhing upon Cedric's lap; their groins were rubbing together in the most tantalizing of ways.

"Cedric, I'm ready, please." Harry whimpered at the loss of Cedric's fingers, but moaned once again as he felt the tip of Cedric's penis pressing against his entrance.

"This will hurt," Cedric warned, breathless. "If it gets to be too much, tell me and I'll stop." Harry nodded, and as Cedric pressed past the tight ring of muscles that was Harry's entrance, he was filled with a deep burning, and an intense sensation of being filled. He gasped in pain.

"Are you okay? I'll stop." Cedric didn't sound like he could stop even if he wanted to.

"No, wait, just wait. It'll get better." Harry sat there for a moment, adjusting to the size before rocking against Cedric's pelvis once more. He groaned in pleasure. "Move."

When Cedric began to thrust slowly, the burning began to recede, and was slowly replaced by pleasure... He had never felt this good in his life.

_End Flashback_

"You're here again?" a cool, detached voice asked, breaking Harry's reverie. He was finally in a happy place, remembering his first time with Cedric. His first and only time.

Harry turned to see Draco Malfoy standing at the side of the lake, hands on his hips. He looked a mixture of angry, amused, and feminine, what with the hands on his hips. Harry ignored him completely and realized that what little erection he had had was now gone.

"I asked you a question, Potter." Draco had moved to sit next to Harry like he did the day previously. "It's polite to answer when someone asks you a question."

Harry fixed Draco with a steely gaze that would make Professor Snape proud. Draco lifted a perfectly manicured blond eyebrow.

"I don't have to answer to you, Malfoy. Why don't you just leave me the fuck alone?"

"Language from the Chosen One. Tsk, tsk." Draco received another glare from Harry, both at the nickname and the sarcasm. "And why won't I leave you alone? I'd quite like to know the answer to that myself." There was a long silence.

"Why can't you find someone else to bother? Why can't I be allowed to mourn in peace?" Harry asked finally, picking at the ground.

Draco sighed and turned to look at Harry. His normally silken hair lay flat and lank against his skull, more untamed than ever as if he hadn't tried to brush it in days. The normally healthy glow of his skin had been replaced by a deathly pallor. He was losing weight, which wasn't a very good thing, considering how skinny he already was. He turned to face Draco, and Draco would see the anguish that lay deep in those_ Avada Kedavra_-green eyes. If anyone bothered to look at him,_ really _look at him, they would see that.

"Because you're not at peace, Potter," Draco murmured, watching the emotions flit across Harry's face. "Apparently I, who has no heart can even see that. I don't know if leaving you to your thoughts is the best thing."

"What the bloody hell do you know?" Harry yelled at Malfoy, who didn't even flinch.

Draco stood up and stared down at Harry. "I might know more than you think."


	3. Chapter 3

_Without a Beta and all mistakes are my own._

_Chapter Three_

Every day for the past two weeks after Harry would wallow in his own thoughts for a while, Malfoy would show up and plant his arse right next to Harry's. For the last three days, neither one of them had said a word to each other and Harry was more than content with that.

"Have Granger and the Weasel noticed that anything is wrong with the Golden Boy?" Draco asked, breaking the well constructed silence.

"I was quite enjoying the quiet," Harry muttered. A place without the sound of a Malfoy's voice was a good one for him.

"Well, have they? Granger should be smart enough to realize when something is wrong with you, or is she just good at answering questions?"

Harry sighed, not wanting to get into a fight about Hermione; he had no fight left in him.

"Yes, they know something is wrong, but I won't tell them what it is," Harry said, fixing Malfoy with a blank stare.

"You downright masochist, you. It might help if you talk about it, you know." Draco's voice had taken on an almost caring tone. Harry then remembered words he had said the week before.

"What did you mean, 'I might know more than you think'?" Harry asked. He had been curious then, and he was curious now.

Draco sighed. It was a dejected sound. "You're not the only one who can't have who they want, Potter." Harry frowned.

"What do you mean by that?"

"Maybe I'll tell you someday when you can tell me things about yourself," Draco offered nonchalantly. Harry scowled. Why would he tell _anything_ to Malfoy?

Harry got up from his spot on the ground. The seat of his pants was wet from the dew on the grass. As he walked away, Malfoy called to him,

"See you tomorrow, Scarhead."

The Great Hall was just beginning to fill up with students when Harry strolled in. He got many stares from the surrounding tables. Some because of him saying Voldemort was back, others because he looked like he had taken a dozen Bludgers to the body.

He seated himself between Ron and Hermione, and began to pick at a piece of toast.

"Where have you been?" Hermione asked, her voice laced with worry. "We were looking all over for you."

"Sorry," Harry mumbled. "I fancied a walk, that's all."

"Again? Harry, are you sure you're all right?" Hermione was looking at him with a mixture of worry and pity. He _hated_ pity.

"Yes, Hermione, I'm fine. I'm just having trouble sleeping."

"'Ou're not even 'ming bed," Ron said through a mouthful of bacon and eggs. Hermione frowned at his atrocious table manners.

"What was that, Ronald?"

After he swallowed, Ron clarified. "I said, 'You're not even coming to bed.'" Hermione turned on Harry, who was glaring at Ron for divulging this information to Hermione.

"Is that true, Harry?"

"It's not like I don't sleep, Hermione," Harry told her. "I just don't sleep _often_."

"No wonder you look like shit," Ron offered. Hermione smacked his arm with a loud "Ronald!"

"Thanks, Ron," Harry muttered. He discarded his toast and left the table. He hadn't slept in four days, and hadn't even actually tried to in two. Every time he did, he was transported back to the graveyard where Cedric lost his life.

He headed up to the hospital wing, where he told Madame Pomfrey that he hadn't been able to sleep and he felt like he was going to pass out. She allowed him a bed for two classes.

"_Get back to the cup!" Harry yelled as Cedric looked around the deserted graveyard. Suddenly, white hot pain flooded his senses as a man carrying a bundle of robes came from the darkness. His vision went completely black. Someone was screaming, and Harry realized that it was his own voice._

"_Harry, are you alright?" Cedric asked, rushing to Harry's side. "What's wrong?"_

"_Get back to the cup!" Harry repeated. He didn't care what happened to himself, as long as Cedric was safe._

_A cold, high pitched voice rang out through the graveyard. "Kill the spare."_

"_Avada Kedavra!" Wormtail screamed at the same time as Harry shouted "No!"_

_Cedric was hit directly in the chest with a bright green light. He flew backwards at least ten feet, and when he hit the ground, he was completely still, his blue eyes wide open. _

"CEDRIC!" Harry yelled, sitting up ramrod straight in his bed in the hospital wing. Madame Pomfrey came bustling around the corner.

"Mr. Potter! Are you all right?"

Harry was drenched in sweat and shaking like mad. He was a bit thankful that the dream hadn't progressed any further than that, but he still wished that he wasn't dreaming at all.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," Harry whispered. Madame Pomfrey brought him a flask of Calming Draught and ordered him to drink. It helped considerably. He avoided Pomfrey's eyes, for inside the brown orbs, he could see what he hated most. Pity.

The doors opened, and Draco Malfoy strolled in, sporting an arm that was swelling so rapidly that it was a feat that it hadn't exploded yet.

"What in the world happened to you, Mr. Malfoy?" Madame Pomfrey shrieked, hurrying over to him to stop the swelling. He was ushered into the bed next to Harry's. Draco cringed when Pomfrey touched his arm. On top of the swelling were several burns.

"Potions didn't go as planned today," he muttered. Harry watched as the healer stopped the swelling and began to treat the burns. Draco gave him a pointed look, and Harry looked away.

Once Madame Pomfrey had headed back into her office, Draco turned to Harry.

"Finally getting sleep, are we, Potter?" he asked.

"What's it to you?" Harry muttered, rolling over on his side away from Malfoy. He still had an hour and a half to try and get some sleep. Having Malfoy next to him made him feel vulnerable though, and he doubted that he would be sleeping again any time soon.

"Well, everyone needs to sleep. Even I seem to get more sleep than you."

"Well, good for you."_ Good for fucking Malfoy_. He didn't really give a damn about his sleep habits. Harry didn't particularly care if he sounded like a complete arse at the moment. He just wanted Malfoy to leave him the fuck alone. He had been trailing him like a baby Crup for more than a week, and it was beginning to really get to him.

"Someone's in a bad mood," Draco said, pointing out the obvious.

"Shut up before more than just your arm is burned."

Draco finally quieted, and Harry sighed in relief.

After finally slipping into a dreamless sleep, Harry was shaken awake. "What'sit?" he muttered, sitting up. He was met with a smirk from Malfoy who was leaning over him. "Oh. It's you."

"Yes, it's me, and Pomfrey says we have to leave. We've overextended our welcome." Draco frowned and rubbed his arm. It was painful, but he would live.

Harry got out of bed and stretched. When his jumper rode up a bit to expose his stomach, he caught Malfoy looking at the strip of skin. It unnerved him just a bit.

"Well, Malfoy, are you going to stand there like a moron, or are you leaving?" Harry asked, snapping Malfoy out of his thoughts.

Once the two were away from the hospital wing, Malfoy turned to Harry, who regarded him warily. Harry waited for Draco to say something, anything, but the blond just stared at him with his storm-grey eyes and didn't say anything. Harry groaned and stomped off to Defense Against the Dark Arts to deal with Umbridge, leaving Malfoy standing in the hallway all alone.

ϟϟϟ

Draco watched Harry stride down the hallway and away from him as fast as his long legs could carry him. He sighed and had the urge to bash his head against one of the walls, but he decided that he should probably not wind right back up in the hospital wing after just being discharged.

He made his way to one of the abandoned classrooms on the fifth floor and settled against the window. He had already missed the majority of one class, and the full extent of another. He figured he should just skip the rest because he didn't really see the point in going and not paying any damn attention anyway.

_Fucking Potter_, Draco thought, scowling. _He's such an arse_. Despite Harry Potter's arsiness, Draco had been lurking at the lake with him every day to keep him company, and also to make sure he didn't hurt himself. He knew what it felt like, to some extent, to not be able to be with the one you want, and he didn't want Potter to do anything irrational. But, then again, _all _the things Potter ever did were irrational.

It was also another way to be close to Potter without having to instigate a fight and wind up with a broken nose or a hippogriff wound. He had had enough of being wounded, thank you very much. Although he did bicker with Harry like crazy whenever he was in his presence, nothing had happened of the physical sort. Draco wasn't sure if he was happy or sad about that.

He sighed and rested his forehead against the stained glass window and took a deep breath. Sorting out the feelings that were rushing through his body at the moment was his first priority, because if he didn't get them under control soon, he would either yell at someone or blow something up unintentionally. Or probably both.

Draco pinched the bridge of his nose and slowly began to recite the ingredients and directions for a calming draught. He groaned in frustration when it didn't work because all he could picture was Harry Potter's arse going down the hallway. This was going to be a long four hours.

After hiding from his classes all day and finishing his Potions essay for Snape, Draco couldn't ignore his grumbling stomach any longer. Classes had finished two hours ago and dinner was just beginning. He collected his things, left the room, and headed for the Great Hall where everyone was already collecting for dinner.

Pansy Parkinson managed to sneak up next to Draco as he was entering the hall with the mill of students, and she wrapped her hands around his arm and cooed into his ear, "Oh, Drake, where were you today? I missed you!"

A nerve in Draco's eyebrow twitched, and he fought the urge to hex Pansy so hard she'd never look at him again. He was not interested in girls, and if he had been, he would definitely not be interested in Pansy. She was annoying, shallow, and dumber than Weaselbee, which was definitely saying something. The only reason she was in Slytherin was because she was extremely conniving and vengeful when she wanted to be.

"I had something to do," Draco answered, managing to jerk his arm out of Pansy's death girp. He caught Potter smirking at his discomfort and he glared in return. Despite the fact that they were spending so much time together, they were still on pins and needles with each other. Frowning, Draco sat down on the bench next to Blaise and reached for the green beans. He didn't want to think-he just wanted to eat something and go to sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

_Chapter Four_

The next morning, Harry Potter found himself wandering around the grounds of the castle at three in the morning. He still wasn't sure how he was managing to get out of the castle with Umbridge being as uptight as she was, but then again, he never really had understood how he managed to get away with most things. Maybe it just came with being Harry Potter.

Cedric was on the forefront of Harry's mind again. No matter what he did, it always seemed to come back to Cedric in some way, and it was really beginning to take its toll on Harry. He couldn't sleep, he couldn't concentrate. Hell, he couldn't even eat. He had lost at least one stone in the past two months. He had been eleven stone, but now he was about ten (140 pounds). No wonder Hermione was beginning to look so worried. He was already so scrawny before, but now he was beginning to look like he had when he first came to Hogwarts-starved. Cedric wouldn't have let Harry starve himself no matter what happened.

Harry groaned and plopped himself underneath a large oak tree that was near the bank of the Black Lake. During nice weather, he, Ron, and Hermione would generally come out here and arse around or do homework instead of continuing to be cooped up inside their tower common room. They hadn't been down to the lake all together in quite a while because Harry was so antisocial these days. The only person Harry had actually talked to other than a few mumbled words since term started was Draco Malfoy. Oddly enough, despite the fact that they bickered like an old married couple, Harry was actually beginning to enjoy the blonde's company, which struck him as a bit odd.

He lay back, using his jumper for a pillow, and gazed up at the stars between the branches of the ancient oak tree. He just wanted to stop thinking about Malfoy for a while. It was quite chilly, but it hadn't snowed yet in Scotland. He closed his eyes and allowed himself to think about Cedric for a while.

_Flashback_

It was a Saturday, and most people were outside, relishing in the warm weather that had finally decided to grace Scotland. It had taken longer than usual this year for the warm weather to set in. The Final Task was in two weeks, and there was already a buzz of excitement milling throughout the castle. Harry wasn't sure he wanted to know how exited people would be once the Task was only a few days away, but he really had no choice, seeing as he was the fourth Triwizard Champion. He really wasn't in the mood to think about the Task, or anything for that matter, for he was currently draped across his boyfriend's lap, having the most passionate snogging session of his life.

Harry's blue t-shirt had ridden up on his abdomen where Cedric was holding onto him, and the older boy's thumbs were massaging his hips in lazy, enticing circles. Harry nibbled on Cedric's bottom lip and sucked it into his mouth where he then ran his tongue over it. Cedric gasped quietly in response and proceeded to slip his tongue past Harry's already kiss-bruised lips. As their tongues met, Harry shivered. He didn't think he would ever get enough of kissing Cedric, or his minty taste. Neither of them really tried to battle for dominance; it was more of a battle to see who could get who to gasp the loudest. Cedric won that battle by sucking lightly on Harry's tongue and then proceeding to nibble on his bottom lip.

Eventually they had to part for some much needed oxygen. Harry pressed his lips to Cedric's warm neck and ran a finger over his collarbones with a feather-light touch. "I love you," Harry mumbled into the skin of Cedric's neck. Cedric stiffened, and for a moment, Harry thought he had ruined everything by saying it too early.

Cedric's hand cupped Harry's chin and brought him upwards to look into a pair of cerulean eyes. A kiss landed on his nose. "I love you too, Harry," Cedric said, before leaning in to capture Harry's mouth once more.

_End Flashback_

As hot tears cascaded down Harry's cold cheeks, he decided that probably hadn't been the best memory to revisit, but he hadn't cried-truly cried- since the night Cedric died, so why not do it now? He curled into a small ball and allowed the waves of sadness and numbness to wash over him. He desperately wished that he had someone there to comfort him right now, and the brief image of a boy with platinum blond hair flashed through his mind before his exhausted body succumbed to sleep.

Harry awoke around four hours later to the feeling of someone running their fingers through his unruly black locks. He opened his eyes, only to be greeted to the sight of a very embarrassed Draco Malfoy. The fingers that were submerged in his hair froze and then slowly disappeared. Draco's cheeks were the color of roses, and he was looking anywhere but at Harry. The black haired boy sat up and a heavy wool cloak fell off of his shoulders and landed on the ground. He stared at it for a moment before looking up at Malfoy, who was still looking anywhere but Harry.

The cloak was soft to the touch, definitely made of the finest wool that there was to offer, and it was insulated with what Harry guessed to be Hippogriff feathers or something of the like. Even from where it lay on the ground, he could smell the slight herb and spice scent that was wafting off of it. He removed his hand from it as if he had been burned, and Draco moved to pick it up. His long piano-player's fingers grasped the fabric carefully, as if it was a treasure to behold, and folded it carefully before placing it on his lap.

"Why are you here, Malfoy?" Harry asked. He hadn't expected to wake up to Draco Malfoy of all people. If anybody, he would have expected to wake up to a crazed Hermione wondering why he had been outside all night and checking him for hypothermia.

Draco was silent for a moment before he answered. "Again, I'm not entirely sure why I'm here. I mean, I went on a stroll this morning, and I saw you underneath the tree. You were shivering like mad, so I covered you up..." He trailed off and began to pick absently at invisible lint that was on his cloak.

"Well, thank you," said Harry, and Draco looked up, surprised. Had Harry Potter just thanked him for doing something? The world surely must be ending.

"You're welcome," Draco replied. They were silent for a long moment before either of them said anything at all. When someone did, it was Draco. "Why were you out here this early, asleep under the tree anyway, Potter?" Harry's entire body tensed and he looked away, off into the distance that led to the mountains surrounding the school.

"I went on a walk, same as you. It just... didn't go as expected, that's all," he finished lamely. In truth, he had been consumed by his memories of his boyfriend and had turned into a lump of worthlessness. He bit his lip to try and stave off the tears that were threatening to creep up at the mere thought of Cedric. This was becoming ridiculous. He couldn't even think of the boy without breaking down!

Draco reached out a hand to touch Harry before pulling it back, realizing that Harry would not appreciate it and they weren't anywhere near close enough for friendly physical contact. They weren't even close enough for friendly word exchange, were they?

"Are you alright?" Draco asked, hoping he wouldn't set Harry off, considering he didn't know what had exactly upset the boy so much at the particular moment in time.

Harry wiped at his eyes, furious with himself. He was crying again, and in front of Draco Malfoy, no less. He had no one to talk to about Cedric so that he could maybe begin to get over the boy, and that certainly wasn't helping matters any. He nodded without looking at the blond boy next to him. He didn't want to see the pity that he was sure would be in those slate-grey eyes.

Draco didn't say anything. Potter was obviously not okay, but he knew that if he said anything against Potter's word, he would either flip his lid or deny it vehemenantly. He wanted to be able to comfort Potter, but he knew that wouldn't be possible any time in the near future.

Eventually, Harry looked back at Draco, slightly surprised to find that he was still sitting next to him. The blond was staring at him with scrutiny in his grey eyes, and Harry wasn't sure what to make of it. He wasn't used to any other looks coming from Malfoy other than loathing, hate, and arrogance.

Glancing at his crappy black watch, Harry realized that breakfast would be starting any minute now and Hermione would probably have a conniption fit if he wasn't there. He wasn't exactly required hang around them, per se, while he was in his moods, as long as he showed up for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, everything was fine on Hermione's turf.

"Erm-Malfoy," Harry said, his voice cracking slightly. He coughed and began again. "Breakfast is starting in a few minutes. Should we...?"

"We should probably head back to the castle, yes," Draco finished, standing up and holding his cloak close. Harry briefly wondered why he was so attached to the cloak when he could have any cloak he wanted.

They walked in silence for five minutes before Harry broke the silence. "Thank you."

"For?" Draco was completely bewildered. _Two_ thank-yous in the span of an hour from Harry? What time was Hell freezing over?

"For covering me up when I probably would have frozen to death," said Harry, staring at his feet. His arms were crossed against his chest, as if he were attempting to defend himself from something. Draco then noticed just how skinny Harry had become. Since school had resumed two months ago, Harry had dropped at least fifteen pounds.

"You already thanked me for that," Draco pointed out. Harry turned to look at him, and Draco shivered at the hollowness that filled those green eyes.

"Well, thank you again, then."

Inside the castle, as Harry attempted to walk into the Great Hall to presumably eat some breakfast, Draco grabbed his arm. It was quite bony. Harry stared at the pale hand that was gripping his upper arm, and Malfoy let him go.

"What do you want?" Harry asked, his voice biting, completely changed from what it had been a few moments ago.

"I..." Draco didn't even know why he was entering this territory. It was none of his business, but he felt that he had to say something. "Will you promise me that you'll eat _something_ at breakfast?" Harry stared at him for a moment before laughing a short, harsh laugh.

"Why should I promise you anything, Malfoy?" He had a point. He didn't owe Malfoy anything.

"You have no reason to, but I'd appreciate it if you would, Potter," Draco said truthfully, gazing down at Harry. "You need to eat."

"I do eat," Harry protested, crossing his arms across his chest again; a sign of trying to protect himself. He looked away from Malfoy.

"You don't eat enough to keep an owl alive, Potter," Draco countered, attempting to bore holes in the side of Harry's head with his eyes. "Please, Potter, will you just eat something for breakfast?" Harry turned to look back at Draco and the blond nearly fainted at the fire that was now in Harry's eyes.

"Fine," Harry snapped, "but if I sick it all up, _you're_ cleaning it off the floor." With that last statement, Harry walked into the Great Hall and joined everyone for breakfast. Draco watched him go, a small smile on his face. At least he was getting Harry to eat something.

When Harry sat down at the Gryffindor table and began to pile sausage and eggs on his plate, Hermione nearly dropped her fork. Ron was too busy stuffing his face with kippers to notice anything unusual.

"Harry, are you alright?" Harry slammed his fork on the table and glared at Hermione, who jumped. Ron stopped eating and stared at Harry like he had grown another head.

"Will people stop asking if I'm alright? I'm _fine_." He resumed throwing food on his plate and once he was finished, he began to stab his eggs viciously. Hermione glanced at Ron and the redhead shrugged before going back to his food. Hermione regarded Harry for a moment before daring to speak again.

"I didn't mean to upset you, Harry," she began, trying to choose her words carefully, "I just noticed that you're wearing the same clothes as yesterday and you're, well, eating." Harry paused mid-bite and fixed Hermione with a stare that could chill bones.

"What's wrong with me eating?" he asked. He knew that he was getting far too worked up over this, but honestly, couldn't they just _leave him alone_? First Malfoy was demanding things of him, and now Hermione was questioning why he was _eating_?

"It's just... You haven't really eaten much in the past month," Hermione attempted. She hated the new Harry; the angry, depressed, introverted Harry. He ignored Hermione and proceeded to eat his eggs and sausage, all the while trying not to sick it all up over his golden plate. After forcing the end of it down with a mouthful of orange juice, he got up from the table and stalked out of the Great Hall.

Hermione watched him go, confused as ever. She turned to Ron, who had been watching his best friend as well. "What was that about, do you think?" she asked, her voice quiet as to not attract eavesdroppers.

"Blimey, I dunno," Ron answered, scratching his chin. "That was really weird, I'll give you that. I haven't seen him act like that before."

"Do you think something happened this morning while he was out on his walk?" asked Hermione, curious to know why her best friend was so upset at the moment.

"Dunno," Ron said again. "Could be, but that doesn't explain his sudden urge to wolf down food after not eating much of anything for four weeks."

Hermione nodded in agreement and returned to her breakfast.

Harry practically raced to the boy's toilets once he reached the fourth floor, and he was violently sick in one of the porcelain toilets. He knew that he shouldn't have tried to eat so much food in one go, and if he was going to eat he needed to eat slow.

He slid down the wall of the cubicle until his bum hit the flagstone floor, and he rested his head against the dark blue wall and took several deep breaths. A quick mouth-cleansing charm got rid of the vomit-taste in his mouth, but it didn't get rid of the still rolling feeling of nausea inside of his stomach. As the nausea finally began to subside, anger once again took its place and he banged his head backwards against the wall of the cubicle and relished in the sharp pain that shot through the back of his skull.

This was getting to be absolutely fucking ridiculous! He couldn't even eat the meal of a normal person without vomiting it all up. He couldn't think about Cedric without crying. He was losing his temper at the slightest things and yelling at the people he cared the most about.

Against his will, a pathetic sounding sob ripped from his chest, and before he knew it, he was crying _again_. He couldn't believe that in less than 24 hours, he had managed to break down twice. Did he even have anything to break down over? Yes, Cedric was dead, but that had happened six months ago and he was still sobbing like a kid who lost their lolly over it. He was pathetic.

Draco had watched Potter storm out of the Great Hall with great curiosity. He could tell that Harry and his friends had been exchanging heated words, but he couldn't hear them from all the way across the Great Hall, and he was no Legilimens. After waiting a few moments, he too excused himself from the breakfast table and followed Potter into the rest of the castle.

He guessed that he was probably heading towards his Common Room, so he headed upstairs, but was rewarded with the view of Potter dashing into the boy's toilets on the fourth floor and not returning after several minutes. Finally, after battling with himself for several minutes, Draco pushed the heavy door to the toilets open and immediately wished he hadn't, for he was assaulted with the sound of Harry Potter, crying his heart out. They were the cries of someone who had seen and felt more than they ever should have to. Each sob caused some part of Draco to break inside.

Harry was caught off guard when Draco opened the door to the cubicle he resided in, and Draco didn't blame him. He probably hadn't even heard Draco come in. Harry looked up at Draco, his face red and blotchy, snot running from his nose.

"You here to take the mickey out of me, Malfoy?" A dull pain twanged throughout Draco's chest at the realization that Harry thought he would do such a thing. He dropped to his knees and pulled a sheet of toilet paper off the roll and wiped the mucus from Harry's face and then deposited the soiled paper in the toilet. Harry's bottom lip began to tremble and a fresh wave of tears cascaded down his face.

"Why would I do that?" Draco asked quietly, managing to fit himself inside the small space alongside The-Boy-Who-Lived. Harry stared up at the ceiling.

"Because you live to make my life hell, Malfoy," he choked out between sobs. Draco slowly reached out and placed his hand on Harry's knee. Harry looked at it like it was going to eat him at any moment. Draco ignored Harry's comment about how big of an arse he really was and continued on with what he was planning on saying in the first place.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Draco asked. Harry looked like he might have an aneurysm. Without warning, Harry propelled himself across the few feet between himself and Malfoy and clutched to Draco's shirt. Heaving sobs were once more coming from his body, and they were strong enough to shake Draco's body as well. The blond boy rubbed small circles in the middle of Harry's back, not sure what to say since he had never actually comforted anyone before in his life. Emotion was not something a Malfoy ever showed or encouraged, actually.

Hushed _shushing _sounds escaped Draco's mouth before he even realized what he was doing, but they seemed to be accomplishing something, for Harry's cries were less pronounced than they had been a few minutes ago. Draco vaguely recalled his mother doing the same thing for him when he was a toddler.

There were enough tears leaking from Harry's eyes for Draco to feel it all the way across his shoulder, and he felt his heart break _again_ for the boy in his arms. Nobody deserved the kind of pain that Harry was obviously in. Nobody, except maybe The Dark Lord.

Finally, when Harry's tears dissapated into nothing more than hiccups, Draco asked again,

"Do you want to talk about it?" as he offered Harry toilet tissue once again to wipe his nose.

"I-I don't know," Harry whispered, his voice shaking almost as much as his body was. Draco took Harry's hand in his own and squeezed.

"You don't have to if you don't want to. I just thought it might help." Harry looked at Draco with red-rimmed eyes, looking for any signs of insincerity, but he could honestly find none. If anything, Draco looked just as vulnerable as he, just without the blotchy face and runny nose. He chewed on his lip for a moment before speaking.

"I'm just so angry all the time," Harry said, staring at his knees and ripping pieces of toilet tissue apart. "I go from being angry to being depressed, and then I just swing right back around again. I can't even think straight anymore. I can't eat right, I can't think, I don't even feel like I can breathe right and it's driving me _insane_, Draco." Both of the boys looked at each other then, as Harry let Draco's given name slip past his lips. "I don't have anybody to talk to about any of this because Hermione and Ron don't even know I'm gay, for one, and I've pushed them so far away this year that they probably wouldn't talk to me even if I tried.

"I can't stop thinking about _him_, you know?" Harry continued without waiting for an answer; Draco knew he didn't actually require one. "Everything I do, _everything_, it winds up coming back to him in some way and I can't function anymore." Harry's eyes looked wild. "I don't know what to do anymore, Draco, I don't."

Draco placed a hand on either side of Harry's face and forced him to look directly into his eyes. "It will be alright, Harry, okay? I promise you that."

"You can't know that," Harry whispered, his voice broken. "You can't."

Draco sighed. "I know that it will be, alright? I survived, didn't I?" Then again, he had a slightly different situation. The person of his very problems was sitting not five feet from him in a toilet cubicle. But, sometimes, that made everything harder, knowing that something was so close and yet so far away.

"But I'm not you," Harry pointed out.

"That you're not, and you should probably count your lucky stars for that one." Draco chuckled darkly. "Harry, I'm not going to let you go crazy or whatever it is you think is happening to you, okay? You're just consumed with grief and you don't know what to do with it. Not having someone to talk to isn't helping at all."

A few tears escaped from underneath Harry's glasses, and Draco watched them fall, wishing that he could wipe them away without making the situation even more uncomfortable than it probably already was. Harry was staring at him again, directly in the eyes, and the eyes that were hollow just an hour ago were now filled with so much pain that it was a wonder they could hold it all.

"How did you survive?" Harry finally asked, and Draco swallowed the lump in his throat.

"I just take it one day at a time, and that's all you can really do. You just have to remember that life isn't always easy and there are bumps in the road." Draco finally released his hold on Harry and managed to stand up in the extremely small space. His legs were screaming in pain, but he ignored it. He offered Harry his hand, and pulled him up, quickly releasing him when a small shock ran through his arm.

They were almost chest to chest, and the atmosphere in the cubicle was rapidly changing from damp and dreary to warm and highly uncomfortable. Harry looked up the few inches towards Draco.

"I-I should probably go. Ron and Hermione are probably wondering where I've gotten myself off to this time, and I also really need to shower, and sleep, and..." Harry began to ramble, trying to fill the palpable awkwardness with something other than the obvious sexual tension that was rising. Draco nodded and Harry bolted from the stall, leaving Draco sagging against the wall, wondering what in the hell had just transpired.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

Draco watched Harry Potter bustle past him in the corridor on his way to Arithmancy. He had his head down, his shaggy black hair (which seriously needed to be trimmed) covering his face, and he had his arms wrapped around himself again. The blond sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose with his index and middle fingers. The bathroom encounter had been a week ago, and Harry hadn't talked to him or even acknowledged him since.

All throughout Arithmancy, Draco spared looks at Granger, trying to figure out if she knew anything he didn't about Harry. Harry had said that he hadn't talked to Weaselbee or her in a long time, but that never meant anything. The Mudblood was probably the most perceptive person in the entire school, aside from himself, of course, but along with that came people knowing things you don't necissarily want them to know.

Eventually Granger realized that Draco was staring at her and she glared at him with a look that could have killed Snape, and he returned to his homework, muttering quietly about jumped up mudbloods and their psychic abilities.

ϟϟϟ

Harry had found himself in detention with Professor Umbridge, _again_. He probably deserved it this time, though. Cedric had somehow managed to come up in class, as they were again on the topic of Voldemort being back, and Harry had completely snapped and began shouting at the woman. He had called her some pretty foul names, to be quite honest, but he thought she deserved it. The rest of the class agreed with him.

The only sound in the room aside from the annoying mewling of Umbridge's cat plates was the sound of the woman's blood-quill scratching across the parchment in front of Harry, repeating line after line.

_I must not tell lies. I must not tell lies. I must not tell lies. I must not tell lies._

His hand was bleeding profusely, and he wasn't allowed to do anything about it. This was the most barbaric thing he had possibly ever encountered. He would take detention with Snape for a week over this. Okay, maybe not a week, but close enough.

After an hour and a half of repeatedly slicing his hand open, Dungbridge deemed him fit to leave, for the message had _sunk in_ enough for the time being. He left the pepto bismol colored room as fast as possible and aimed for the fastes route to Gryffindor tower. He was out after curfew, he was bleeding, and he was tired. All Harry wanted to do was go to bed and fix his hand, but the fates had something else in store for him, as he ran smack into somebody on his way around the corner.

ϟϟϟ

"Watch where you're going!" Draco snapped before he realized that the moron who had run into him was _the_ moron, Harry Potter. Harry looked at him and resembled a terrified first-year. Draco's eyes were immediately drawn to his left hand, which was bleeding profusely.

"What happened?" he asked, taking off his robe and wrapping it around Harry's hand. He was pants at healing spells, sadly. He never got them quite right. Harry refused to answer and Draco pulled him roughly to his feet and looked directly into his green eyes. "What happened?"

"It's nothing," Harry muttered, trying to pull his hand out of Draco's grip. The bloodied cloak slipped off, and Draco could see the words _I must not tell lies_ etched into the inflamed skin. Rage boiled through his veins.

"What the hell is this?" he demanded, pulling Harry off towards the toilets so he could wash the wound. Once inside the darkened toilets, Draco put Harry's hand under the tap and began to wash it out with soap and water. Harry winced and gasped at the pain. "Don't tell me this is nothing, Harry."

"I deserved it," Harry said, and Draco nearly threw the bar of soap across the room. He turned sharply towards Harry, who suddenly looked terrified.

"You do not deserve to be hurt, Harry. I thought I had cleared this up last week." Harry stiffened at the mention of their rendevous in the cubicle, and Draco resumed his scrubbing of the wound. "I don't care what you say or what you do. You don't deserve to be hurt mentally _or_ physically."

Harry was silent while Draco cleansed his cut. After it was wrapped once again in the cloak, he finally spoke. "Umbridge has a fucked up way of handling her detentions."

For a moment, Harry was sure that Draco was going to punch or maybe even hex something, but after a moment his fists unclenched, as did his jaw, and he took a deep breath through his pointed nose.

"Of course she does," he muttered, his voice not matching the calm expression on his face. "Of course the Ministry sends some crazy woman to torture the students and not teach us magic. I see."

"Draco, are you okay?" Harry asked, raising his eyebrows. He was still cradling his hand, or he would have reached out and put his hand on the blond's shoulder in a gesture of comfort, although at this point it probably wouldn't have done much good.

Suddenly, Draco turned and slammed his fists against one of the walls, and Harry jumped. He had never seen a Malfoy absolutely lose his cool before, and it was quite unsettling, to say the least. Draco's breathing was heavy and ragged, and his forehead was touching the wall. Harry reached out and placed his unwounded hand on Draco's shoulder.

"Draco?"

"I'm bloody fine!" Harry pulled back his hand quickly. Wasn't he supposed to be the one prone to random bouts of anger? After several minutes, the blond turned back around and smiled at Harry, who regarded him warily.

"I'm sorry about that," Draco said quietly. "I lost myself there for a moment."

Harry nodded in acknowledgement and turned to leave the bathroom, but a hand on his upper arm stopped him. He turned back around. Draco was chewing on his bottom lip slowly.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" asked Harry. He was tired; he just wanted to try and sleep.

"Why haven't you said anything to me at all in the past week? I thought we were getting somewhere," Draco wondered. Last week in that bathroom cubicle, all the walls had come down, even for Draco and it was terrifying, but it was also completely exhilarating.

Harry stared at a spot just past Draco's shoulder-if he stared into those grey eyes, he was going to get confused. His arms slowly wrapped themselves around his torso, as if trying to hold his body together. "I don't know. I guess I'm just scared."

"Scared of what?" Draco asked, genuinely confused.

"Scared of being hurt again, I guess," Harry confessed. "The only person who knew that much about me is now dead, and I haven't talked to my best friends properly in months. I'm probably bringing the hurt upon myself by now, but I'm just scared."

"Harry, look at me." Harry jumped when he realized that Draco was mere feet from him. The blond looked at him with a compassion in his eyes that Harry didn't even know was possible from a Malfoy. "I'm not going to hurt you, alright? As I said before, you don't deserve to be hurt, and I won't be the one to put you through more of it."

Harry bit his lip so hard he began to draw blood. Draco frowned. "Why the sudden change?" A blond brow was raised in a silent question. "For four years you've been hellbent on getting me expelled and throwing me off my broom and anything that involved me winding up in the hospital wing."

Draco was silent for a few moments before he spoke, and when he did, it was so quiet that Harry had to strain his ears to hear anything.

"I apologize for that. I've never taken rejection well." Harry's eyes widened. Four years of fighting had been over Harry turning down Draco's hand on the Hogwart's Express on the first day of school? He had been hurt that badly by it?

"I'm sorry," Harry blurted out. He was completely caught off guard by himself; he hadn't been expecting to apologize for something he had no need to be sorry for, but since Draco apparently felt so badly about the entire ordeal, he felt he should apologize in some way.

"For what?"

"For upsetting you so much by declining your friendship in first year," Harry said. Draco chuckled, surprising Harry.

"Only you would apologize for something that was completely inevitable. I was a complete dick to you on the train." Harry smiled, and Draco's heart nearly skipped a beat.

"You're still a complete dick to me, Draco."

Draco gasped and followed Harry as he began to head out of the basement and upstairs. He was a prefect, so he could escort Harry to his dormitory without either of them getting in trouble. "I resent that statement."

"I'm a Gryffindor, and I only speak the truth," Harry said, smiling somewhat cheekily. Draco rolled his eyes.

"That is the biggest lie I have ever heard."

They continued to walk in silence until they reached the portrait of the sleeping Fat Lady, who would not be pleased to be woken up an hour and a half after curfew, but what had to be done had to be done. Draco turned to Harry.

"I'll talk to you later then?" Harry nodded minutely and handed Draco his soiled robe. Draco resisted the urge to touch Harry and turned away from the boy and began to head down to the dungeons where he was sure to have a fitful night's sleep.


	6. Chapter 6

_So no one gets confused, the lightning bolts separate POVs. This one goes from Harry's to Pansy's to Hermione's to Draco's. Sorry if that's confusing at all. _

_Chapter Six_

Harry had been paying more attention to Draco since the blond had confronted him about it in the boy's toilets, but they weren't suddenly attached at the hip, much to Draco's chagrin. Harry had been acknowledging Draco in the hallways, in the Great Hall, and whenever they ran into each other, but Harry hadn't actively seeked Draco out like he'd been hoping.

When Draco found harry out by the lake on a chilly November morning, wrapped in winter clothes for once, he almost jumped for joy until he remembered that Malfoys don't jump for joy. He pulled his mother's cloak tighter around his body and sat down next to Harry, who regarded him for a moment before looking away.

"It's cold, isn't it?" Draco asked, feeling like an idiot immediately afterwards.

"It's November, Malfoy; of course it's cold," Harry replied. Draco had the urge to bash his head against something hard. Why was he talking about the bloody weather?

"I apologize for somewhat ignoring you these past few days," Harry started, catching Draco off guard. "I'm just-I dunno." He finally turned to look Draco in the eyes. "This is a little weird, isn't it?"

"What is?"

"Us. Being friends. Slytherins and Gryffindors are like oil and water-they don't mix." The blond's stomach did a back flip at the word 'us'.

"It's not like you've ever had a penchant for the rules, Harry," Draco pointed out and Harry's lips turned up in a small smile. "Besides, I'm a great friend." Harry scoffed.

"You don't _have_ friends, Draco." Malfoy sniffed in disdain.

"Vincent and Greg are my friends," he attempted.

"Minions do not make friends," said Harry. Draco rolled his eyes.

"I'm still a good friend," he tried again. "I'm devastatingly handsome, witty, and a good listener. I've also been told that I give great advice."

"You're also a prat," Harry interjected, and Draco elbowed him in the ribs. "A violent prat."

They were quiet for several minutes. Harry picked at the grass, creating a pile of discarded blades at his feet while Draco watched his hands, imagining the things he'd rather them be doing instead. The breeze fluttered Harry's fringe, and Draco glimpsed the lightning bolt scar that had made the boy oh-so famous fourteen years ago.

"I miss him," Harry said suddenly, pulling Draco out of his thoughts.

"Tell me about him." Harry glanced at Draco, catching his eye before beginning.

"Most people knew him as the Hufflepuff prefect who finally defeated Harry Potter in a game of Quidditch, or as the correct Hogwarts School Champion, but I knew someone completely different.

"I knew a funny, compassionate, and loyal boy who thought that house rivalry was stupid because people shouldn't feel singled out because of blood status or the house that they're in. I knew a boy who only wanted to make people happy because he felt that no one should suffer." Harry raised a shaking hand and wiped his damp eyes. Draco pulled him flush to his side, and Harry rested his head on Draco's shoulder. The smell of cinnamon and sandalwood drifted up towards Draco's pointed nose, and he inhaled deeply, committing the smell of Harry to memory.

"He sounded like a great guy," Draco told Harry, rubbing his arm soothingly as Harry began to cry softly into his shoulder.

"I miss him so much, Draco. I miss him so much it hurts." Draco maneuvered his body so he could pull Harry to his chest. He buried his face in Harry's thick black locks, which were as soft as silk. "Do you think I'll ever get past this?"

"I know you will, Harry," Draco said, his voice slightly muffled, for his face was still buried in Harry's hair. "You're stronger than you will ever give yourself credit for. It just might take longer than you like."

Harry pulled back from Draco just enough to look at him. "How did you get over the person you were in love with?" Draco bit his lip. He never had gotten over Harry; in all actuality, every year, the attraction had grown stronger and since they had started spending time together it had become almost unbearable.

"I never fully have," Draco admitted, skirting around the truth. "I still take it day by day and know that things might get harder before they get easier, but in the long run, the only way from here is up." Harry smiled.

"You should write a book."

Draco laughed aloud. Harry really said the strangest things at the strangest times.

ϟϟϟ

Pansy Parkinson was staring at the plethora of food that littered the Slytherin table, trying to figure out what had the least calories and what she should eat for breakfast when Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter entered the Great Hall. _Together_. Her jaw nearly hit the floor. The world had to be ending. Draco absolutely hated Harry Potter!

She watched them through slitted eyes as they conversed at the entrance before going separate ways. Potter went to the Gryffindor table and sat down between the Weasel and the Mudblood, and Draco made his way towards the Slytherin table. He shed his grey wool cloak and draped it across the bench before sitting down and pouring himself a cup of tea. He looked up and realized Pansy was staring at him with an extremely calculating look.

"What?" he asked, his eyebrows raised so high they had disappeared into the fringe of his bangs. Pansy glared at him, and he blinked at her, as if asking a question. "Am I supposed to know why you're looking at me like that?"

"Yes, you are, Draco," she said coolly. "You came into the Great Hall with _Harry Potter_. You _hate_ Harry Potter! What the hell is going on?" Draco took a sip of his tea and set the cup down before answering.

"Nothing is going on, Pansy dear." The black-haired girl would have snapped her fork in half if she could have.

"That is rubbish and you know it, Draco."

"What's rubbish?" Blaise asked, sitting down next to Pansy and reaching for a goblet of orange juice.

"Draco says that 'it's nothing' that he came into breakfast with _Harry Potter_ this morning," Pansy recounted, and Blaise nearly spit out his drink. He managed to swallow the mouthful of juice before asking,

"You did what?"

Draco rolled his grey eyes and covered his eyes with his left hand. "I entered breakfast with Potter. Is that a crime now?"

"Yes!" Blaise and Pansy chimed together. Draco ignored them and filled his plate. His 'friends' were really odd when it came to matters dealing with people of other houses, especially ones named Harry Potter.

"Well, what I do with or without Harry Potter ought not concern you, so just keep your noses out of it," Draco told the two. Pansy's jaw dropped again. Draco never kept secrets from her or Blaise. Nobody told Greg or Vince anything because they were barely smart enough to remember how to tie their shoes and get to lessons on time, but Draco told them everything. He had even told them that he was gay in third year, although Pansy figured he had known far longer than they had.

"Why shouldn't it concern us?" Blaise asked, and Pansy had the urge to kiss him for daring to speak up against Draco. Blaise had never exactly conformed to Draco's ruling of Slytherin house; he did his own thing, and said what he wanted.

Draco finished his tea and let Blaise sit on his question for a moment before answering the question. Draco was such an arse sometimes. "Because it is honestly none of your business." Pansy regarded Draco with a wary eye, and Draco glared at her. She scowled at him and turned back to her breakfast of a blueberry muffin and toast.

Something was up with Draco and Potter, and she didn't like it at all. She was supposed to know _everything_ about _everyone_ in Hogwarts, and secrets were not her friends.

ϟϟϟ

Hermione watched with wide eyes as Harry smiled at Draco Malfoy before departing and coming to the Gryffindor table. He unbuttoned his cloak and dropped it to the floor before sitting down across from her and then began to put sausages on his plate. Hermione stared at him for several seconds before he realized she was even looking at him.

"Is there something on my face, Hermione?" Harry asked and rubbed his hand across his chin, wiping away invisible smudges. She continued to stare at him. "What, Hermione?"

"Why did you come to breakfast with Malfoy?" Harry froze mid face-rub, and Ron, who had been in the middle of devouring flapjacks, looked up in surprise.

"Mauflay?" Ron muffled out between his mouthful of food, and Hermione smacked him upside the head for talking with his mouth full.

"Did I come into breakfast with Malfoy?" Harry asked, chuckling awkwardly and and beginning to cut up the food on his plate. "Is that who that was?"

"Mate, you're pants at lying so stop trying," Ron told him, brandishing his fork.

"Really, Harry, why did you come into the hall with him? What's going on?" Hermione sounded worried. She didn't like Draco, and she never had. He was a shady character, and not just because he was prejudiced against anything and everyone. He had just never sat very well with her. She considered herself to be a good judge of character and she never thought he seemed like a very good person.

"Nothing is going on, 'Mione," Harry said, refusing to look at her. He took several gulps of his pumpkin juice in an attempt to drag out the silence. "Honestly. All I did was enter a room with the bloke. It's not like I'm-" Harry stopped talking, promptly turned bright red, and began to shovel food into his mouth.

"Not like you're what?" Hermione asked. Ron 'mmphed' in agreement. Harry ignored the question and only shoveled his food in faster. Hermione groaned. Boys.

ϟϟϟ

Draco waited in the shadows of an alcove for Harry to finally pass by him. The stupid Gryffindor was apparently taking his precious time eating his breakfast, and half the school had filtered past already. He was becoming increasingly impatient.

Finally, after huddling behind a suit of armor for fifteen minutes, Harry wandered past, and Draco seized him. Harry squealed as he was dragged into a broom closet. Harry turned to face Draco, who was trying not to collapse on the floor of the small closet in laughter at Harry's girlish shriek.

"What the hell, Draco? You scared the shit out of me!" Harry straightened his shirt and tried to flatten his hair.

"You scream like a girl, Potter," Draco told him, chuckling. Harry smacked Draco's arm. "Ow."

"Why are we in a broom closet?" Harry asked, looking around the dark room. He couldn't see much more than what was a few inches in front of him, which just so happened to be Draco's face.

"Because I needed to talk to you."

"And you thought a broom closet was the most convenient place to do this?" demanded Harry, hands on his hips.

"Well, it seemed like we both got the third degree today for entering breakfast together, so yes, this was the most convenient place to talk, considering it's _private_." Draco flushed as he realized how that could be construed, but Harry would never take his words in that prospect. He was still in love with Cedric.

"What did you need to talk to me about then?" Harry asked quietly.

Draco considered his wording for a moment before opening his mouth. "If we don't want to be drilled by our friends every time we see them, maybe we should try and be more secretive about this... friendship we have going on here." Draco wasn't sure if _friendship_ was the right word to use or not, but he used it anyway. He could always dream, right?

Harry was silent. He had been secretive with Cedric, and because of that, no one knew about their relationship but Draco and as a consequence, he couldn't openly grieve. He didn't like to be secretive about anything, really, because keeping secrets was so much work, but being badgered by Ron and Hermione every morning was also extremely tiring.

"Alright," Harry agreed. "But on one condition."

"What's that?"

"No more meeting in broom cupboards."


	7. Chapter 7

_This is a short chapter, but's it's cute and it belongs here, so enjoy it thoroughly. _

_Chapter Seven_

Over the few weeks that led into December, Harry and Draco met several times a week in the Astronomy Tower to work on essays, talk, or to even just bask in the other's presence. It was nice to know that there was someone there if you needed them.

Last night, Filch had passed around the sign-up sheet to make aware who was staying in the castle and who was leaving for the holidays on the 20th. Draco and Harry had both signed up to leave.

"So, going home for Christmas?" Harry asked conversationally as he and Draco leaned against the ramparts of the Astronomy Tower. Draco nodded stiffly.

"Father would expect no less." There was no emotion evident in the blond's voice.

"And your mother?" Harry's breath puffed out of his mouth like a dragon who was exhaling a mouthful of smoke. Draco fingered the fabric of his calk as he always did when his mother was mentioned. Harry's green eyes caught the subtle movement. "Why is that calk so important to you?"

"It's my mothers. Most people would expect a boy to wear his father's clothes, but I always preferred my mother's things. That was probably the first early warning sign that I was gay." Draco chuckled and Harry's eyes widened.

"You're gay?" Harry squeaked, and Draco looked at him, incredulity evident on his face.

"You're gay but you can't tell that I am?" Draco asked, flabbergasted. "Do you even _have_ a gaydar?"

"You know the term gaydar?" Harry laughed. Draco rolled his eyes.

"Of course I do." Draco looked up at the stars. The light of the moon threw his sharp features into relief, and his pale hair seemed to practically glow. Draco turned to look at Harry and he smiled. Harry's breath caught, for he hadn't truly ever seen the Slytherin smile before, and it was a beautiful sight to behold.

Harry bit his lip as he pondered something important. He didn't know if Draco would ever go for it, considering it was such an un-Draco thing to do. "Hermione had this idea," Harry began, and Draco inclined his head to tell him to continue speaking. "Umbridge won't let us use magic and it's our O.W.L.s year… Hermione brought up the idea of forming a study group where we can practice defensive spells."

"What exactly are you asking?" Harry was beginning to ramble.

"Do you want to join the study group?" Harry looked nervous, as if he were scared that Draco would yell at him for even suggesting such a thing.

"It would be awkward, wouldn't it?" Draco asked. "I'd be the only Slytherin, and your friends hate me." He frowned. "Wouldn't this completely out our friendship to the school if you invited me to this defense group?" Harry considered that logic for a moment.

"It might, but I don't really care if the school knows that we're friends." For a moment, Draco thought he was going to float away with the light breeze that was drifting through the top of the tower at Harry's words. "You're really important to me, Draco, and if people can't accept that, well, that's their problem."

"I'm touched, Harry," Draco said, grinning. Harry laughed, and the sound reminded Draco of anything happy he had ever encountered. It was the best sound in the entire world-he was sure of it.

"So you'll join?" Harry sounded hopeful.

"Of course."

"Meet me in Hogsmead at ten o'clock tomorrow morning, alright? Hermione's set up a meeting with some people and we'll figure out what we're doing then." Draco gaped a bit.

"Tomorrow? That's a little short notice, Harry." Harry blushed.

"I was scared to ask you," he admitted.

"Why?"

"I was afraid you'd say no." If Draco had felt like fluttering away, he now felt like a golden snitch. Harry cared what he said. He was in absolute heaven. Draco shook his head and put his hand on Harry's shoulder, which was warm to the touch even through his dragon hide gloves and Harry's cloak.

"I said yes, so you don't have to worry." They stared at each other for a moment, and time seemed to slow down by a few seconds. Green hit grey, and static erupted through the air like wildfire. Draco's eyes flickered towards Harry's pink lips, and he began to move forward-

The clock tower chimed loudly, severing the moment in half, and Harry jumped at least two feet in the air. He backed several feet away from Draco as the tower continued to chime until it stopped at eleven. It was an hour past curfew and they both needed to get to bed.

"I-I'll see you in Hogsmead tomorrow, okay?" Harry stuttered, beginning to backtrack towards the door that led to the lower levels of the castle.

"Alright," Draco agreed, his voice strained. As Harry left the room, Draco turned around and smacked his head on the wall, cursing the man who created clock towers.


	8. Chapter 8

_Enjoy the chapter! Reviews and feedback are always appreciated.  
><em>

_Chapter Eight_

The next morning, Draco was an early riser, even by his standards. He had awoken before anyone else in the Slytherin dormitories, and probably before anyone else in any dormitory. He cast a quick Tempus charm and found that it was just past five in the morning. He groaned loudly and flopped back against his silk pillows. Five in the morning was too early, even for a Malfoy.

He lay in bed for several minutes, contemplating what would happen today in Hogsmead. He would either be ignored by everyone, thrown out, or hexed into oblivion. He honestly figured that the latter two were more likely, but he really hoped for the former. He didn't fancy being turned into a slug today.

After wallowing in self-hate for waking up before the sun had even decided to rise, Draco dragged his feet to the shower and immersed himself in scalding hot water, turning his pale porcelain skin a delicate pink color. He made sure that he hogged his fair share of hot water before getting out and dressing in a pair of tailored black slacks and a hunter green turtleneck and black vest.

By the time he had finished showering, dressing, and fixing his hair, it was only half six. He groaned again and made his way out of the Slytherin dormitories and headed towards the library, hoping he could find something to read and sate his mind before breakfast and hell began.

Draco sulked his way towards the front doors, wrapped tightly in his mother's cloak, a fur hat upon his blond hair. People were filing out the large front doors and beginning the fifteen minute trek towards Hogsmead. He was beginning to regret his decision to join this defense group. There was a niggling feeling in the pit of his stomach, telling him that this was a bad idea, he should just turn back now, and spend his entire day in front of the Slytherin Common Room fire reading his book of Shakespeare.

Alas, it was not meant to be, for instead of being able to meet Harry in Hogsmead, Harry ran into Harry just as Draco was forming the plan to turn around and hide in his dormitory all day.

"Draco!" Harry chimed over the heads of several fourth years, and they all looked between the two, waiting for a horrible fight to break out. They seemed highly disappointed when one didn't happen, and Harry instead sidled up next to Draco and offered him a friendly smile. "I thought you would have left already."

"I was trying to not leave at all," he muttered under his breath as they headed out the door and into the cold. He counted his lucky stars that it wasn't windy or snowing, but it was still colder than a witch's titty outside, and soon his nose was bright red and running slightly.

"You alright?" Harry asked Draco, who had sneezed for the fourth time in two minutes. Draco sniffled his nose.

"I'm fine. I hate winter." The blond glared at the snow with a fiery passion, and Harry laughed.

People all around them were staring, and some were even whispering. They probably thought that hell had frozen over, for Harry Potter was strolling towards Hogsmead with none other than Draco Malfoy, and they were _laughing_ with each other.

Once inside the village, Harry began to look for the telltale sign of Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley-a bush of brown hair and a mop of ginger. He eventually spotted them, and when he did, he grabbed Draco's hand and began to pull him towards the two Gryffindors. Draco would have protested at being dragged around like a rag doll had he not been too fixated on the fact that _he was holding hands with Harry Potter_.

The second Hermione spotted them, her brown eyes went wide and filled with recognition. Weasley, however, turned a very interesting shade of red that clashed with his hair on many levels. Draco resisted the urge to burst out laughing.

"Why in hell is he here, Harry?" Ron demanded, glaring at Draco. Draco smiled sweetly at Ron, causing the redhead to practically begin foaming at the mouth. Hermione was staring at the boy's interlocked hands. Harry hadn't seemed to realize he was still holding Draco's hand, but Draco had sure realized it.

"He's joining the defense group," Harry explained, slightly out of breath from running. He had a grin on his face.

"Oh, no, he is not!" Ron shouted, drawing the attention of an old lady who was bustling by, causing her to startle in fright. Hermione slapped him in the back of the head, and Draco snorted. Maybe he could learn to like Granger after all.

"Why not?" Harry asked. "There's nothing wrong with him, and he's extremely good at magic."

"Nothing wrong with him!" Ron began to turn purple. "Nothing wrong with him! Have you forgotten who we're talking about?"

"I _am_ standing right here," Draco said boredly.

"All the more reason to be upset!" Weasley really did have the shortest fuse Draco had ever had the misfortune to see. "And why are you holding his hand?" Harry let go of Draco's hand so fast it was as if he had been burned, and Harry turned bright pink.

"He's joining the defense group, Ron, and that's the end of the story," Harry said, finality in his voice. "I'm the teacher of the group anyway, so if I want him to join, he will." Draco looked at Harry, surprised.

"_You're_ teaching us?" Harry nodded. "Oh, Merlin, we're all going to die." Hermione giggled, and Ron glared at her so hard it was as if he were trying to make her burst into flame. Harry smacked him on the arm.

"Well, if we're done squabbling like children," Hermione began, "could we please get a move on? Everyone is probably already waiting for us." The bushy-haired girl began to walk, and the three boys followed her. Ron and Harry glared at each other the entire way, Draco bringing up the rear.

Once at their destination, Draco asked,

"The Hog's Head? Why are we here?" He wasn't even sure if they served students.

"I figured somewhere off the beaten path might be better," Hermione explained, opening the door. A rusty bell chimed overhead, and a man with a long beard looked at the four students before turning back to cleaning out a shot glass with a dirty bar rag.

Draco nearly fainted when he realized that there were at least thirty people inside the small pub, all staring at him, Ron, Hermione, and Harry. Everyone had a butterbeer, and they all stopped drinking when they spotted him.

"What's he doing here?" a Ravenclaw fifth year asked. Draco frowned, and Harry stepped in front of him.

"He's here for the same reasons you are, so let him alone, alright?" Draco could have kissed Harry for standing up for him, but he figured that Harry and everyone else wouldn't appreciate that certain gesture of affection. People bristled at Harry's words, but nobody else said anything.

The four newcomers sat down on stools, and the meeting began. Draco was seated next to Harry, and the moment someone brought up Cedric, he felt every part of Harry's body stiffen. Draco wanted to reach out and hold Harry's hand to offer him some semblance of comfort.

"I'm not going to talk about Cedric, so if that's why you're here, you might as well clear out now," he told everyone, his voice hard as nails. He turned to Hermione. "Can we just go? They're all here because they think I'm some kind of freak or something."

"Is it true that you can produce a corporeal Patronus?" a blond Hufflepuff girl asked.

"Are you related to Amelia Bones, by chance?" Harry asked, a wistful smile on his face.

"She's my auntie," Susan answered proudly.

"Yes, he can," Hermione answered for Harry. "I've seen it myself. He used it in third year to fight off around a hundred dementors at once." Harry paled slightly, presumably not enjoying the memory that had been stirred up.

"In first year, he rescued the Philosopher's Stone," Neville Longbottom boasted, as if he himself had done the deed. He was apparently very proud of Harry.

"And in second year, he saved me from Tom Riddle and the Basilisk in the Chamber of Serets," the Weaselette piped up. This time, Draco paled, for his father had been the cause of that entire fiasco.

"Last year, he really did fight off You-Know-Who in the flesh," Granger said somberly.

"You guys make it sound like I've done all of these great things, but I haven't," Harry said suddenly, springing to his feet.

"He's just being modest," Ron began, but Harry cut him off.

"I'm not, Ron. Most of that was just luck, and I almost always had help in some way." Harry took a deep breath. "You don't know what it's like to go through that. Defense class is nothing like the real world. Sure, you've got spells flying at you, but you're not a moment away from dying, or watching someone you care about die… You know that if anything goes wrong, Madame Pomfrey will patch you up and you'll be on your way to your next class in fifteen minutes, but when you're out there, a wand pointed directly between your eyes, Voldemort on the other end, nothing is the same. You have no time to plan, no time to strategize. It's what comes to mind first, and what you know." Harry sat down. His legs were shaking. Draco patted his thigh and offered him a small smile.

"He's really back, isn't he?" Michael Corner asked, his voice slightly subdued. Harry nodded slowly.

Everyone was silent for several minutes before Hermione pulled a long piece of parchment out of her satchel and laid it on one of the tables. "There's a jinx on this that will tell us if _anyone_ has defected against the group, so I would be careful if I were you," she warned before signing her name. Harry then took the quill and signed his name sloppily. Draco took the quill from him, and their fingers brushed, causing the electric current to flow through his finger tips again. He signed his name with a flourish and passed it on. Soon, everyone had signed their name underneath the heading _Dumbledore's Army_.


	9. Chapter 9

_I hope you enjoy this chapter. I know I did._

Chapter Nine

Tonight was the very first D.A meeting, and Harry was becoming increasingly nervous. He had to teach thirty five people how to use defensive spells properly, and he wasn't sure if he was actually up to the task or not. Teaching one person how to stun something was completely different from teaching an entire room of people how to accomplish it. Draco had told him several times since they had entered the Room of Requirement that he was going to do absolutely fine.

"The only thing that might happen is Longbottom melting something, or Finnegan blowing someone up," Draco said, voice full of humour. Harry glared at him.

"Not funny, Draco. That's likely to happen." Draco laughed even harder.

"I know. That's the wonderful part." Harry slapped him upside the head. "You are _so_ abusive."

Harry began to pace back and forth in front of one of the many bookcases that lined the walls of the Room of Requirement. Dobby the house elf had informed Harry of the room, and he and Draco had decided that it would be perfect to house all thirty five members of _Dumbledore's Army_. Harry checked his watch and groaned. People would begin arriving in a few minutes.

The black haired boy jumped when two hands landed on his shoulders and began kneading them, rubbing out the kinks in his tight muscles. He suppressed a groan and let his head fall back as he closed his eyes. Draco's hands were the definition of magic. The long fingers dug into the tissue of Harry's skin and loosened Harry's muscles.

"Harry, you'll do fine," Draco said for the umpteenth time in twenty minutes, his voice right in Harry's ear. "I know you will. You can do anything if you set your mind to it." Harry groaned in response, and Draco chuckled. His breath fanned out across Harry's neck, and he shivered.

"Oh, I'm sorry!" Harry and Draco separated to see Hermione standing in the doorway, bright red. "I didn't mean to interrupt anything." The two boys jumped apart and stared in separate directions. Harry could feel the flush creeping down his face and across his chest.

"You weren't interrupting anything, Hermione," Harry said awkwardly. "Draco was just trying to get me to stop second-guessing myself." Hermione nodded, but she didn't look like she believed what he had said at all. Harry was just glad that it had been Hermione who had entered the room, and not Ron, because that would have ended in someone going to the hospital wing.

"People should start arriving any moment now," Hermione told them, and she began to bustle around the room, looking at all of the books on the shelves and straightening cushions. Harry and Draco looked at each other and smiled awkwardly.

There wasn't much time to be embarrassed or awkward, because students began to file into the Room of Requirement moments later. Immediately, they separated into groups by house, friendship, or otherwise. Harry wanted to bash his head against the wall.

"Guys, there are no 'houses' in here. We are all of the same house, alright? No inter-house rivalry, no separations. Spread out," Harry instructed, waving his hands. People grumbled loudly, but followed suit. Gryffindors stood next to Ravenclaws, and Hufflepuffs stood everywhere. Draco was the only Slytherin, and he was currently next to Harry, and no one was complaining. Harry clapped his hands together.

"Okay, first off we're going to begin with basic defense, which would be stunning and disarming." Nearly the entire room began to mutter darkly and several people shifted from foot to foot, as if they were contemplating leaving. "If you don't want to do this, you can walk out the door right now. I used _Expelliarmus_ last year against Voldemort and it saved my life." Harry had become tense again. He hated to bring up anything about last June, or even anything about the last _year_, but sometimes it was inevitable.

Hermione seemed to sense his distress, and she took over, directing people into partners and having them begin to disarm each other, or attempt to, in some cases. Harry moved to a corner of the room with Draco, for the blond had no partner to work with, and they began to try and disarm each other. They were both extremely fast with their wands, and it was becoming a battle to see who could disarm who first.

When Draco disarmed Harry without saying or doing anything, Harry looked at Draco with wide eyes. Draco smirked.

"You know wandless magic?"

"Of course I do," Draco said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the entire world. "I've been extremely advanced in magic for a long time, Harry." The black-haired boy scratched his head for a moment with a look on his face, as if that explained everything about Draco. It definitely explained why Draco was such a difficult opponent in the Dueling Club in second year.

Harry muttered something that sounded like "unfair advantages" and caught his wand as Draco tossed it to him. Draco chuckled and took a fighting stance once more. Harry glared at Draco, but with a smile on his face.

"_Expelliarmus!_" Harry shouted, catching Draco off guard. He caught the blond's hawthorne and unicorn hair wand in his left hand and waved it around triumphantly. Draco stomped his foot like a small child and pouted out his bottom lip.

"You caught me off guard! That was unfair." Draco crossed his arms over his chest and cocked his hips to the right. Harry watched them with interest before realizing what he was doing.

"Oh, yeah, like your real opponent is going to wait for you to pay attention before attempting to set you on fire. I see now. I've been dueling all wrong for four years!" Harry mocked before tossing Draco his wand. They went back and forth for more than thirty minutes before Harry called the meeting to a halt.

"Alright, I think that's good for the first meeting. Those who accomplished disarming, great job! Those who didn't-" he eyed Neville, who blushed "-don't give up. Some things are difficult to master, no matter what it is. We'll be moving on to Stunning Spells next time, but if you still have some trouble with disarming, we'll come back to it soon."

ϟϟϟ

Draco watched everyone file out of the room one by one until it was just Harry and him left in the large room. Harry had migrated over to the pile of magenta cushions and had plopped himself in the middle of it. He had his chin resting against his knees, and he was staring off into space, his wand forgotten on the floor next to him. Draco picked up the wand and placed it on a nearby table before sitting in the pile of cushions as well. Harry leaned against him and proceeded to lay his head upon Draco's shoulder.

"Why did I agree to this, Draco?" Harry asked somberly. His hair tickled Draco's cheek, but Draco didn't do anything about it. He was just happy to be in such close contact with Harry.

"You agreed to do this because deep down you know that you can, and because you know that we all need serious help with defensive spells what with that toad Umbridge teaching us this year," Draco reminded Harry. He grasped Harry's right hand in his own and studied it. The fingernails were bitten to the quick, and his skin was slightly dry. He had long fingers, though not as long as Draco's, and he had a scar that ran down his middle finger, as if it had been cut open on glass. Harry looked at their intertwined hands for a long moment before sighing deeply.

"Draco, why are you here?" Harry asked quietly, still staring at their interlocked hands. Draco looked at Harry for a moment, studying his profile. He needed to shave; he had stubble on his chin. There was a spot where he had nicked himself while shaving that morning, possibly, and it had a small dot of dried blood on it. His hair was casting long shadows across his cheeks and nose.

"Because I care about you," Draco said without hesitation. "Why else would I be here?" Harry looked up from their hands and focused on Draco's face.

"Because you feel sorry for me?" Harry offered, sounding dejected. Draco wanted to hit Harry upside the head for even suggesting such a thing, but he figured that now probably wasn't the proper moment for such things.

"Of course I don't feel sorry for you, Harry. I'm sorry that you're going through this, but I don't feel _sorry_ for you. I don't pity you."

Draco's eyes drifted from Harry's viridian eyes down to his pink lips. Harry's eyes were flickering between Draco's own lips and Draco's slate eyes. The blond was torn between what his heart wanted and what his head was telling him was right. His head was telling him that Harry was vulnerable and that he shouldn't be taken advantage of, especially when he was feeling like this, but his heart was telling him to kiss Harry until he couldn't remember his own name.

In the end, Draco's heart won.

He leaned into Harry, and his nose was filled with the familiar sandalwood and cinnamon scent that he had come to attribute to Harry. Their noses brushed and he could almost feel his lips upon Harry's... then suddenly Harry wasn't there anymore. He had backed away from Draco so far that their hands had separated and Harry had crashed into the table that was holding their wands. They clattered to the floor. Harry's eyes were wide and were brimming with tears.

"Harry?" Draco asked quietly.

Harry sprung to his feet, picked up his wand, and headed for the door. "I can't, Draco, I just can't," he whispered before disappearing through the portal and leaving Draco alone.


	10. Chapter 10

_Chapter Ten_

Harry sped away from the Room of Requirement as fast as his legs could possibly take him. There were tears streaming down his face, and he didn't pause to wipe them. He had to get as far from Draco as he could without leaving the castle.

How could he almost kiss Draco? How? Cedric had only been dead a little more than six months, and he was already kissing other people. He was a horrible person. He was disgusting. He was-

"Harry!" Hermione grabbed his arm and stopped his pursuit towards the lower levels of the castle. She had been standing near the entrance to the Gryffindor Common Room, presumably waiting for him to return. She took one look at Harry's face and pulled him close. She wrapped him in her arms and pressed a kiss to his scalp. Harry began to cry into her blouse. "What happened, Harry? Did something happen between you and Draco?" At the mention of Draco's name, Harry only began to cry harder. Hermione took his hand and led him towards an empty room, in case anyone were to pass by. She didn't want to make Harry into a bigger spectacle than he already happened to be.

Hermione helped Harry sit in a desk and she rubbed his back until his cries finally subsided into hiccups. "Harry, what happened?"

"I almost kissed Draco," Harry said quietly. Hermione had to strain to hear him.

"What's so wrong with that?" she wondered. Harry banged his head against the desk once.

"Because it makes me an awful person, 'Mione." Hermione almost scoffed. Harry was the least awful person she knew. "Cedric hasn't been dead for more than six months and I'm already kissing other boys." Everything suddenly clicked into place-the crippling depression after Cedric was killed, the hanging around Malfoy, the aversion to anything that had breasts.

"Harry, you're not a bad person. You're a good person who's just had bad things happen to them," Hermione said, still rubbing circles on Harry's back. "Did you love him?" Harry nodded, his face still pressed against the desk. "You know, if he loved you back as much as I bet he did, he wouldn't honestly care who you were with as long as you were happy. It really doesn't matter that he's only been gone six months, as long as you're happy, Harry. There is no right time to move on; it just happens when it happens. You wouldn't be doing anything wrong by being with Draco." Harry looked at Hermione. She looked worried.

"Really?" Harry asked quietly. Hermione kissed his forehead.

"Really, Harry. It's okay to move on. Cedric wouldn't want you to be alone for the rest of your life because you can't be with him. You deserve to be happy." The black haired boy hugged Hermione so hard she thought she might snap in half for a moment.

"Thank you so much, Hermione."

ϟϟϟ

Draco stared at the place that Harry had disappeared for several minutes. His eyes had filled with tears and overflowed long ago, but he hadn't made any move to wipe away the tears. Malfoys don't show emotion, but Draco had always thought that rule was absolutely preposterous. How does one not show emotion?

Eventually, Draco got up from his place in the pile of cushions and he began to pace in circles in the Room of Requirement. What had he just done? _He_ had caused Harry to cry. _He_ had caused Harry visible pain. He had probably also completely cocked up their friendship, which he had worked so hard to obtain. Draco shouted at the top of his lungs and kicked one of the brick walls. He felt his big toe snap, and he swore loudly. Just another fucking thing to add to his misery tonight.

He sat down on the floor and took of his shoe and sock. His toe was already beginning to swell. He swore again and aimed his wand at the painful appendage. "_Episkey._" It snapped back into place and he shouted in pain. He rubbed his toe with his fingers.

Draco finally decided that he would talk to Harry tomorrow about the entire thing. If he couldn't have the relationship he actually wanted with Harry, he would take friendship and no less. He couldn't lose Harry over a silly mistake. Harry meant too much to him.

ϟϟϟ

Sirius Black was pacing back in forth of the fireplace that lay inside of his basement kitchen in Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, London. He was waiting or any news of Arthur Weasley's condition and any news about Harry or the Weasley children. He had been informed that they would be coming to stay with him at the Order Headquarters earlier than the twenty second.

Arthur had been on duty for the Order when he had been attacked by Voldemort's snake, Nagini. Phineas had told Sirius that Harry had seen the entire attack, and that Arthur was being taken to St. Mungo's as soon as possible. Understandably, everyone was very shaken up.

Sirius swore loudly in surprise as the fireplace roared to life and five children came spewing out of it, four of them red-haired, one of them not. Immediately Sirius enveloped Harry in his arms before moving on to hug all of the Weasley children. Everyone was ashen faced.

"Why don't we head someplace more comfortable?" Sirius suggested, grabbing five bottles of butterbeer and a crystal bottle of firewhiskey and a shot glass for himself. He led the children up to the library, where everyone sat down in a chair or on a love seat, took a bottle of drink, and stared off into space. Sirius didn't even try to engage anyone in conversation; he knew that the effort would be futile.

Ginny finally fell asleep, curled up in one of the large green armchairs like a cat, her bottle of butterbeer unopened and forgotten on the floor. George had nodded off, his head lolling back against the chair, but Fred was still wide-eyed, staring at a spot on the wall, his drink clutched so firmly in his hand that his knuckles were white. Harry looked extremely uncomfortable, as if he were intruding on some private mourning session. Ron's eyes were closed, but it was obvious he was awake.

Finally, around six in the morning, Molly Weasley came shuffling into the room, tired as a dog. Everyone sprang up from their seats, faces grim.

"He'll be alright," she said, and there was a collective _whooshing _ sound as everyone released the breath they had been holding. "He just needs to rest now, as do you." Molly shunted everyone off to bed. Sirius finished his firewhiskey.

ϟϟϟ

The cracks on the ceiling were highly interesting, Harry told himself, as he lay on his bed in Sirius' house. They had just gotten back from visiting Mr. Weasley in the hospital. It had been interesting, to say the least. They had run into none other than Gilderoy Lockhart and Mr. and Mrs. Longbottom while they were there as well.

A knock sounded on the door, and Harry promptly ignored it, mentally telling whoever it was that they could go stuff themselves. He wasn't here. The door opened anyway, and Sirius popped his head in. Harry scowled at the older man.

"Don't you know what a closed door means?" Harry asked, turning away from his godfather. "It means 'don't enter.'" Sirius sat down at the foot of Harry's bed and patted his godson's leg.

"I know what it means, silly. But I'm not letting you keep yourself cooped up in here all Christmas," Sirius told him.

"What if I want to keep myself all cooped up?"

"Then we're going to have a serious problem on our hands." Sirius chuckled at his pun. Harry rolled his eyes. Harry turned to face the older man.

"I don't belong down there with the rest of them," he said sadly. "I'm the entire reason that Mr. Weasley was attacked. He almost died."

"Harry, Arthur knew what he was doing. He knew what he had signed up for, and if it wasn't for you, he probably would have died, because we wouldn't have seen the attack at all. We wouldn't have known until it was too late." Sirius smiled reassuringly. "You belong down there with your family, Harry. They love you no matter what."

Harry turned his face into his pillow. "I doubt that," he muttered, his words muffled by the feathers. Sirius pulled the pillow from underneath Harry's head and threw it on the floor.

"Now why do you say that?" Sirius asked.

"I have reasons." Sirius groaned loudly.

"Damn teenagers." He poked Harry in the side sharply. "You'll tell your old godfather later, right?"

Harry made a loud noise in response, and Sirius took that as his cue to leave. Once the door had closed, Harry sighed loudly. How would Sirius take the news that he was gay? He had a gut feeling that Ron wouldn't like it very much, and he wouldn't like the fact that Malfoy was becoming increasingly involved any more than he would like being told that he was now married to a Blast-Ended Skrewt. Sirius didn't like the Malfoys at all, even though he was related to them. Harry honestly couldn't blame him; the rest of the Malfoy family were complete pricks.

Eventually, Harry made his way downstairs and joined in the festivities, although he had to admit he did the entire thing half-heartedly. This was definitely not one of his better Christmases, despite all of the nice gifts. Hermione got him a talking homework organizer. Ron got him a book about Quidditch. Mrs. Weasley gave him the annual Weasley sweater, along with a box full of mince pies. Oddly enough, he felt slightly upset by the fact that he didn't have anything from Draco.

That night, Hermione crept into Harry's room before Ron came up for bed. She sat down next to him on the bed and gave him a wan smile. "How are you doing?"

"I'm alright," he said, picking at a hole in the blanket. "I'm a bit nervous, though."

"For what?"

"We go back to school in two days, and I'll have to confront Draco," he admitted, a frown on his face. Hermione nodded.

"You know that it's for the best though. You can't let something like that just dangle in the air forever. It needs to be talked about." Harry sighed, and Hermione changed topics. "How are you going to tell Ron?"

"I wasn't really planning on it, actually." Hermione opened her mouth to say something, but Harry cut her off. "I mean, nothing is officially going on yet, right? So I figured that what he doesn't know won't hurt him… Or me." Hermione shook her head.

"Boys."


	11. Chapter 11

_Chapter Eleven_

Draco had been so distracted during the Holidays that he had wound up punished by Lucius several times for being 'an insolent little moron'. His muscles still ached, but he was back at school and he wouldn't be seeing Lucius until after his birthday in June, which suited him just fine.

He was growing increasingly worried, for everyone that had left for the winter holidays had returned early that morning on the Hogwarts Express, except for six people—Harry, Hermione, and the Weasleys. Draco didn't really care about the other five. He just wanted to know where Harry was, if he was alright, and why he had disappeared three days earlier than everyone else.

Draco was pacing in circles around the Astronomy tower when he noticed a group of people heading towards the castle. He wanted to meet Harry in the Entrance Hall, but that seemed too desperate and forward. He had caused Harry distress and pain, and he figured that he should probably wait for Harry to come to him, as painful as it was.

ϟϟϟ

The next few days went by without much incident. Harry never came to find Draco, and Draco never actively went to find Harry. They passed each other in the halls several times, exchanging small smiles, but no words were said between the two. Draco was beginning to wonder if he had royally fucked up the only good thing he had ever really had.

Right as Draco was beginning to give up hope, Harry cornered him after Potions in the dungeon hallway. His heart was beating so fast that he was sure Harry himself could hear it.

"Can we talk later?" Harry asked, staring at his feet. "I'm sorry I haven't said anything, it's just-"

"It's fine, Harry," Draco told him, cutting him off. "We can talk before dinner, if that's a good time for you." Harry nodded, still not looking at Draco. "Does the Room of Requirement sound good?"

"Sure." Harry finally looked up, and Draco thought he might pass out. He hadn't seen Harry up close for days. The black haired boy smiled. "That sounds good. I have to get to Transfiguration or McGonagall will kill me, so I'll see you then." He took off, leaving Draco, who was definitely going to be late for his next class.

ϟϟϟ

When Divination finished, Harry slowly collected his things and put them in his worn rucksack. He was trying to stall for as long as possible. He was worried about what would happen between him and Malfoy, and he was becoming increasingly nervous. Ron was dawdling near the table, and Harry shooed him off.

"I have something I need to do," he said, and Ron left him without a second glance. He was still upset about Draco joining _Dumbledore's Army_. Harry could honestly care less at the moment.

Slowly, Harry made his way to the Room of Requirement, which was already open. Draco was waiting for him. He swallowed the large lump in his throat, wiped his hands on his trousers, and opened the door. The room was set up differently from D.A. meetings. It was at least three times smaller, and looked a bit like a common room. Draco was sitting in the lounge area on a black couch, his face hidden by his hands. He jumped to attention when Harry shut the door behind himself. He waved at Draco awkwardly. "Hi."

Draco smiled. "Hi, yourself. Are you going to stand over there forever?" Harry blushed and made his way over to the posh sitting area and sat across from Draco in a plush green armchair. Harry felt extremely awkward—he didn't know what to say.

"Harry," Draco began. He looked unsure of himself. "I'm sorry if I upset you at the last D.A. meeting. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. I should have listened to my head and not my heart." The blond chewed on his lip and twiddled his long fingers together as he avoided eye contact.

Harry reached across the small gap that lay between the two of them and grasped Draco's hand in his own. Draco looked up at him in surprise. "I was confused," Harry said quietly. "I had a long talk with Hermione about everything, and it helped me clear my head." He squeezed Draco's hand. "I'm just scared. I don't want to get hurt again."

"I wouldn't hurt you," Draco said immediately.

"No, I don't think you would, but if you haven't noticed, everyone I get close to winds up in danger, or... well, dead." Harry took a deep breath. "I can't let that happen to you, Draco. I care too much about you." Draco looked desperately like he was trying not to smile.

"I can take care of myself, Harry," said Draco, squeezing the brunette's hand tightly. "I would have thought that was obvious by now." Harry smiled.

"I know, and that's what worries me." Draco glared at him. "I want to try, Draco. I do." The blond couldn't contain his smile anymore. The sight of it caused Harry's stomach to twitch slightly. He moved to sit next to Draco, who immediately wrapped his arms tightly around Harry. The black haired boy lay his head on Draco's chest over his heart and listened to the _tha-thump, tha-thump, tha-thump_ of his boyfriend's heart.

"Wait, you told Granger?" Draco's voice had suddenly taken on a slightly high-pitched quality, and Harry had to suppress a chuckle.

"Of course I told Hermione. Who was I going to tell, Ron?" Draco considered that for a moment before snorting. "That's what I thought."

"What does she think about it all?" asked Draco. He sounded nervous, as if he wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer to his own question. It sounded as if he wanted to know that Harry's friends approved of their budding relationship. The thought of that made his entire body grow warm.

Harry began to draw pointless patterns across Draco's turtleneck-clad chest with his index finger. "She just wants me to be happy. She could care less whether it was you or even Pansy Parkinson." Harry paused. "Well, she might have some problems with Pansy..."

Draco kissed the top of Harry's head, and they both lapsed into a comfortable silence. The only sound that filled the room was the noise of their combined breathing and the crackling of the fireplace. Eventually, Harry nodded off, curled up against his boyfriend. They slept right through dinner.


	12. Chapter 12

_We get Ron's POV in this one!_

_Chapter 12_

Draco kissed Harry's cheek before bidding him goodnight and heading for his domitory. They had fallen asleep in the Room of Requirement and slept through dinner and almost all the way to curfew.

Once inside the Slytherin common room, Pansy tried to get information out of Draco on where he'd been, but he breezed past her and to the fifth year boy's room. Thankfully, no one was inside the dark room. He gathered his bedclothes and shower things and headed for the bathroom. He really didn't feel like going up six floors just to bathe in the Prefect's bathroom tonight. Draco turned on the shower and stepped under the spray. He groaned in pleasure as the scalding water covered his body. He smiled as his mind wandered to Harry.

He was finally in a relationship with Harry, and it was the best feeling in the world. He had began to think that Harry was attractive early on in second year. Physical attraction had increased into a fullblown infatuation in third year, and it had only continued to grow.

Draco's thoughts turned to how he had treated Harry for four years, and he grimaced. At the beginning his rudeness was because Harry had rejected his friendship, and Draco had been hurt immensely by that. Eventually, it had progressed into attention-seeking behavior. Anything he could do to get Potter's attention, positive or negative, was good for him.

Despite his infatuation, he had never treated Harry like anything but a normal boy, unlike most of his peers. Harry was a human just like the rest of them, and nobody seemed to really understand that. Everyone seemed to think that he was some type of God sent from the heavens to purge the entire world of evil, but he wasn't. He had hopes, dreams, fantasies, and fears just like a normal kid because he _was_ a normal kid-well, as normal as you can be while being Harry Potter.

The water was beginning to turn cold, and Draco turned off the tap and got out of the shower. He spelled his hair dry and dressed in his silk pyjama pants before making his way back into the dormitory, where Blaise was laying down, apparently waiting for Draco.

"Hello," Draco said, pulling back his dark green bedcovers. Blaise watched him with dark eyes as he crawled into bed and pulled the covers up to his chin. "Is there something I can help you with?"

"Where were you all night?" Blaise asked, turning on his side to face Draco. The blond scowled at the black boy through the darkness. Hadn't he already told Pansy and Blaise that it was none of their business what he did with his free time? They weren't even really _friends_.

"I was out," Draco said simply, turning away from the other Slytherin. He punched his pillow into formation and settled in to glare at nothing in particular through the darkness.

"Out with Potter?" asked Blaise, and Draco had to fight the urge to grab his wand and spell Blaise's mouth shut. It was none of his business who he was with or what he was doing in his free time.

"Why would I be out with Potter for six hours?" Draco snapped. He honestly wished that he could have been with Harry for the entire night, but that would _definitely_ cause some unwanted questions to arise.

"That's why I asked."

"Goodnight, Blaise," Draco muttered, hoping that his statement would end the conversation. He was happy when the sounds of Blaise rummaging through his trunk for his bedclothes reached his ears. His relationship with Potter wouldn't be allowed to go public, much to his chagrin, because of his father. He didn't even _want_ to think about what Lucius would say if he found out that his son was a poofter and was in a relationship with the very boy he had been brought up to hate.

Why couldn't he just be a normal teenager?

****ϟ********ϟ********ϟ****

Ron was pouring over his potions textbook when Harry came slinking through the portrait hole, apparently trying to not be caught. Sadly for him, Ron, Hermione, and several other students were still awake and working on homework. Harry silently cursed as Ron beckoned him over to the squashy armchairs in front of the fire. Harry sat down next to Ron, who shut his textbook happily.

"Where were you at dinner?" the redhead asked. "You disappeared after Divination and we couldn't find you after that." Harry scratched at his scar absentmindedly and averted his eyes from his best friend. He couldn't really tell Ron the truth at the moment, or probably ever, considering the long-term Malfoy-Weasley rivalry that had been going on.

"I told you, I had something to do," Harry said, and Hermione looked up from her notes and raised an eyebrow. Harry coughed and looked back towards the fireplace.

"Something that took nearly six hours to do?" Ron asked. He was getting suspicious. Yes, Harry had become more social over the past few months, but he was still sneaking off at the oddest times and he didn't return for hours at a time. He refused to tell anyone where he was going, and it was beginning to really piss Ron off. They were supposed to be best friends. Harry turned towards Ron, his face set in a mask of indifference.

"Yes, Ron, six hours. What's it to you?" Ron could feel his face beginning to heat up.

"Obviously I care what you do because we're best friends, or so I thought," Ron snapped, and Hermione nearly dropped her entire stack of parchment.

"Ron!" she scolded.

"Don't 'Ron' me! He's not telling us anything at all, Hermione. What kind of a friendship is that?" He could see that Harry was growing increasingly furious.

"Yes, what kind of friendship exactly? You didn't tell me a damn thing over the entire summer. Now you know how I felt while being locked up at the fucking Dursley's for eight weeks!" Harry shouted. Hermione was beginning to look like she might burst into tears.

"You know for a fact that Dumbledore didn't let us tell you anything!" Ron defended. "We would have told you everything we could have but we weren't allowed to!"

"I don't know anything about anything anymore, Ron!" Harry shouted, finally standing up from his chair and nearly sending it toppling backwards. "I don't have to tell you every thing I do!" Harry stormed off towards the dormitories, leaving a stunned Common Room in his wake.

Ron turned to Hermione, who had finally began to cry. He threw his Potions book across the room, nearly hitting a fourth year in the process.

"Ron, you know he doesn't mean to hurt us," Hermione began. Ron turned towards her, blue eyes blazing.

"We're supposed to be best friends, and he's supposed to tell us things like this, like... whatever it is that he's going through! He won't even confide in us anymore." Hermione looked away from Ron and chewed on her lip. "He's talking to you?" Hermione didn't answer. "Why would he talk to you and not me?"

The bushy-haired girl turned towards her other best friend, eyes blazing. "It's not like you're his only friend, Ron! Besides, I don't get angry about everything he does lately. He needs someone to be there for him, Ron, and obviously you can't do that." She picked up her notes and stalked off towards the girl's domitories.

Several people were staring at Ron now, and he snapped "What?" loudly, causing everyone to hurridly return to their previous activities. He was a Prefect and people knew that if he got too angry, he might just take away house points just for the hell of it, even if it was of his own house.


	13. Chapter 13

_You guys better love this. It took me three hours to write. _

_Chapter Thirteen_

The next D.A. meeting was filled with palpable awkwardness between the members of the Golden Trio. Harry refused to tell Draco what was going on, apparently from fear that Draco would kill someone. Harry was actually being smart for once, because if anyone upset Harry, they would have the end of his wand to talk to.

The only members of the trio that were speaking were Harry and Hermione, and that wasn't even very often. They said a few words during the meeting, and that was it. Draco watched everything with an interest, trying to figure out what had exactly happened between the three Gryffindors. Sure, Weaselbee and Harry fought all the time. The year prior, Weasley had stopped talking to Harry for upwards of a month over his name being extracted from the Goblet of Fire, but the entire group didn't suddenly stop speaking.

They were practicing levitation spells, as well as the _Reducto_ spell. So far, Ginny Weasley had managed to destroy every single table they had. Harry looked impressed, and Draco rolled his eyes. He could have done the exact same thing in third year.

Harry told everyone to take a break and he wandered over to Draco, who was levitating books across the room with ease. Draco wanted to send something chasing after Weasley, but he figured that Harry probably wouldn't appreciate the gesture, even though they weren't currently speaking at the moment.

Draco smiled at Harry as he leaned back against the wall. They could spend some time in public, for people had seen them in Hogsmead together before Christmas and had figured out for themselves that they at least weren't fighting anymore.

"You seem bored," Harry said, watching Draco as he sent a quill looping through the air like a bird. It plummeted to the ground as Draco turned to face Harry.

"I'm not bored, I just have nothing to do." Harry smacked Draco's arm. "Why are you so _abusive_?" he asked, rubbing the spot on his arm that Harry frequently smacked.

"Because you're a smartass," Harry replied, grinning.

"I resent that!" Draco complained, raising his nose up in the air snootily. "I am not a smartass. I'm just witty."

"Fine," Harry said, and Draco thought he was about to agree with him (for once). "You're a witty smartass." Draco thought about it for a moment.

"I believe I can live with that title."

They were interrupted by Hermione waltzing up to them and asking Harry how much longer the meeting was going to last. She offered Draco a small smile, and he smiled in return, albeit confusedly. Harry told her that the meeting would be over shortly, and she headed off towards the center of the room, leaving them alone again.

Draco lowered his voice. "Does she know?"

"I haven't said anything lately, but I assume she does," Harry answered. "I haven't really had a chance to talk to her since my row with Ron, but I'm guessing she knows exactly where I was that night." Draco winked at Harry. Harry stuck his tongue out at the blond and headed back into the throng of people.

Draco watched him dole out instructions with ease, pairing people up and having them levitate each other off the ground. He had made sure to put cushions underneath people, because some students were not to be trusted with levitation. Draco wished vaguely that he had that kind of charisma-the kind that you didn't even really know you possessed until you had to use it. Harry could control an entire room of his peers because he was an amazing leader, and not just because he was Harry Potter. For Draco to gain any kind of control, he had to throw around names and money.

Before the meeting ended, Harry told everyone that they would be practicing Patronuses soon, and the entire room cheered. Draco perked up, for this was something he actually couldn't do. They would be working on this before Easter, which gave them two more lessons of things that Draco could do in his sleep before anything would get interesting.

As people filed out, Draco stayed behind, still sending items zooming around the room with ease. His feather went crashing into a wall and nearly exploded when a pair of arms wrapped themselves around his waist from behind, and a warm body nestled itself against his backside. Draco chuckled.

"Won't people begin to get suspicious if we stay late after every meeting?" he asked. Harry rested his head against Draco's shoulder.

"Let them be suspicious. It's one of the only times I can actually spend time with you without having to sneak off. If anyone asks I can tell them I'm giving you extra lessons because you suck at everything."

"I don't suck at anything!" Draco exclaimed, turning around in Harry's arms. The green-eyed boy was grinning up at Draco, who rolled his eyes for what felt like the fifth time that night. Harry looked like he was going to say something, but instead he turned a delicious shade of pink. Draco kissed his cheeks.

"You know, it's Valentine's day on Saturday, and it's a Hogsmead weekend..." Harry trailed off hopefully, and Draco's eyes widened. Was Harry not aware of the fact that they weren't a _public_ couple? They couldn't just waltz into Hogsmead, hand in hand, and have a cuppa in Madame Puddifoots.

"Harry," Draco warned, but Harry raised a finger to Draco's lips. His entire body went warm at the feeling of Harry's skin against his lips. He attempted to stare at the finger, but it was no use.

"We don't have to go as a couple," Harry told him, and Draco wanted to say that _of course they couldn't_, but he couldn't make his lips move. "I just want to spend the day with you." Draco's stomach was doing acrobatics. He nodded, and Harry kissed the corner of his mouth. For a moment, he thought he was going to faint, for that's the closest Harry had ever been to his mouth so far. He wanted to kiss him desperately, but they were trying to take it slow so Harry didn't get overwhelmed.

Draco smiled, as did Harry, and the blond hugged Harry close. Harry tucked his head underneath Draco's pointed chin and breathed deeply, inhaling the blond's unique scent. They both felt at home in each other's arms, as if they had been made from the same mould.

ϟϟϟ

Harry woke up early on Saturday and immediately began to fret about what he was going to wear. He felt stupid for it, but he honestly couldn't help himself. He showered as fast as he could and then began to dig through his trunk for _one_ piece of clothing that wasn't ten times too large, had holes in it, or was stained in some way. Eventually, he found one of the few nice shirts he owned, and he pulled it on, along with a pair of dark jeans that were slightly too large, but that just couldn't be helped. He smoothed his hair repeatedly until it stuck up even worse than it had before. He cursed under his breath and headed downstairs to the common room.

Hermione was one of the few people up, and she looked at Harry with scrutiny. "Well, don't you look nice this morning," she said, a smile on her face. Harry blushed. "Are you going to Hogsmead with Draco?" Harry nodded, and Hermione squealed before enveloping him in a bone-crushing hug.

"'Mione...can't...breathe," he choked out, and the smaller girl let him go. She smoothed down his blue jumper. "We're not going as a couple or anything." Hermione frowned. She knew. She had to. "We're just going to spend the day together."

"Why aren't you going as a couple, Harry?" Hermione asked, cocking her head to the side. "You are, aren't you?" She was way too perceptive for her own damn good. Harry nodded stiffly as Hermione continued to fix his shirt, which was beyond the needs of fixing. "Well, then why not?"

Harry pulled Hermione's hands from his shirt. "Because we can't be public, Hermione." The look that crossed her face made him immediately backtrack. "You know how his father is. For one, he doesn't even know that Draco is gay, and for another, Draco wouldn't fare well with his father if he found out." Hermione twisted her hands for a moment.

"Are you sure you want this, Harry? I mean, the same thing happened with Cedric, and you know what happened..." Harry could feel himself shutting down. He loved Hermione, really, but he didn't need this today. Tomorrow, sure, but not today.

"Nothing like that will happen, Hermione, okay? Everything will be fine." Harry left Hermione standing in the Common Room as he headed down to breakfast. He couldn't even stand to think about that right now. Today was supposed to be a good day, and he was going to make sure it was.

ϟϟϟ

Draco readjusted his silk shirt for the thirtieth time in twenty seconds as he waited for Harry out in the courtyard. He had chosen an ivory colored shirt and paired it with a pair of black slacks. He was being even pickier than usual about his appearance, but today was special for him, and for Harry as well. It was a _date_ of sorts, but it wasn't exactly official since they couldn't stroll around holding hands, or act like more than friends, but they both knew exactly what it was, and the thought made Draco's palms sweat.

Finally, he spotted Harry. He looked just as nervous as Draco did, which made Draco feel slightly better about his bad case of nerves. Harry stopped a few feet away from him. There was a wide smile on his face. "Good morning, Draco."

"Good morning, Harry," Draco replied. "I presume you slept well?"

"You could say that," Harry said, beginning to walk. Draco quickly fell into step alongside him. His mother's cloak was clutched against his stomach. At the moment it was quite warm for February, but it was supposed to get cooler later on in the day. Silk wasn't exactly the best insulation.

Again, as they headed towards the wizarding village, people stared. They probably thought that they were all hallucinating, or that they had consumed some odd Weasley Wizard Wheezes product and their minds were wreaking havoc on them. Draco elbowed Harry in the side.

"People are staring, Harry."

"Let them stare, Draco. We're not doing anything wrong. We're two _friends_ spending a day together in Hogsmead," said Harry defiantly, holding his head high. Draco could have kissed Harry at that moment, but he resisted.

They finally reached the small village, and it was full of students and villagers alike. There were couples everywhere, and Draco was beginning to hate the fact that he couldn't show everyone that he had finally found the person that made him happy. Harry grasped Draco's hand and pulled him off towards the Three Broomsticks. Draco's face flushed as he thought about the fact that he was holding hands with Harry in public _again_.

Harry brought them butterbeers and they settled into a secluded corner at a table that was so small their knees bumped underneath the table. Draco was quite content with this, because it gave him the opportunity to touch Harry without being obvious.

They were in the corner, staring at each other like complete saps when none other than The Weasel appeared beside their table, daggers shooting from his eyes at Harry. The black haired boy's knuckles went white around his bottle of butterbeer, and for a moment Draco thought it might shatter in his hand.

"What have we here?" Ron growled, his arms crossed across his broad chest. Draco glared at him, and the Weasel glared back.

"Leave, Ron," Harry said firmly, not bothering to look up. This was a special day and it was _not_ going to be ruined by hot-tempered, redheaded, blood-traitors. "This doesn't concern you."

"Are you two on a _date_?" Ron asked, apparently pretending to not hear Harry at all. "Is this who you've been sneaking off to see constantly? _Malfoy_?" Draco slammed down his bottle of butterbeer, and it sloshed across the table.

"I am _right here_, Weasley. I can _hear you_," Draco said, his voice hard as nails. "We are here to enjoy a day together without people like _you_ bothering us. So if you could take your infested arse somewhere else, I'd highly appreciate it, thank you." Weasley turned purple, glanced at Harry, who was looking out the window and not at his 'friend', and stalked off. Draco sighed deeply and then slammed his head against the table.

"Don't do that!" Harry said, putting his hands on Draco's forehead. "You'll hurt yourself."

"That was kind of the point, Harry," Draco muttered. "Have I ever told you how much I fucking hate your friends?" Harry laughed.

"Not as of late, but yes, in not so many words." Harry removed his hand from Draco's forehead, but not before running his fingers between a few loose strands of hair. Draco froze and caught Harry's eye. He realized what he was doing and removed his hand from Draco's hair quickly. He drank half of his butterbeer to try and cover up his mistake.

Harry excused himself to the loo, and Draco again slammed his head against the table. He hated having to hide his relationship from the public. It was almost all he could think about today. He wanted to touch Harry, to hold his hand, to caress him, but he couldn't do that anywhere but in private. Secrets are complete shit.

Draco and Harry headed back to the castle several hours earlier than everyone else. They were tired of being stared at. Once they were back at the castle, which was practically empty, Harry suggested they go to the Room of Requirement and spend the rest of their day there.

The Room was again different from what it usually was. Today, it had transformed into a square room with a blue and green color scheme, a small dining area, a sitting area, and a very large couch. Harry turned around and pulled Draco into the room by his hands. Draco grinned and followed his boyfriend into the room and closed the door behind himself.

They collapsed on the couch together, and Harry found himself pinned underneath Draco. The entire room suddenly grew much warmer than it had been four seconds ago. One of Draco's legs lie between Harry's, and Draco was hovering mere inches from Harry's face. His slate-grey eyes had darkened to an almost blue-ish hue, and Harry found himself absolutely fascinated. He reached up and traced the line of Draco's prominent cheekbones. The blond's eyelids fluttered shut, and Harry ran his fingers across those as well. He allowed his fingers to dance across Draco's forehead, down his nose, and finally across his pink lips, which parted underneath his fingers. Harry's breath caught, and he briefly wondered if Draco could hear his heart pounding in his chest, because it felt like it was loud enough for the entire castle to hear it.

Slowly, almost painfully, Draco kissed the tip of Harry's index finger. His darkened eyes were boring into his own, and it was beginning to feel like Draco could see every part of him. Draco's quiet voice broke the silence. "Can... Can I kiss you?" Harry bit his lip and nodded slowly. His stomach was doing so many backflips that it was a wonder it hadn't popped out.

Draco's face hovered closer, and before Harry could manage to even think about the situation, soft, wet, perfect lips had closed over his own, and he was in absolute heaven. Kissing Cedric had been nothing like this. The moment Draco's lips had touched his own, colors had exploded behind his eyelids and his entire body began to buzz. He slid the hand that was on Draco's face up into his blond locks and nearly whimpered at how soft they were. He had always wanted to touch them. Draco tilted his head to the left slightly, taking the kiss deeper. Harry's mind was reeling. He couldn't breathe, he couldn't think. He didn't know where his body ended and Draco's began, and all they were doing was kissing. If this was what kissing Draco was like, could he handle anything more?


	14. Chapter 14

_I hope you enjoy. I know I did. ;) _

_Chapter 14_

Draco and Harry finally left the Room of Requirement hours later with smiles on their faces that they were beginning to think would never go away. Dinner began in a few minutes, and they knew that if they didn't emerge for supper, people would definitely ask questions. Spend the day in Hogsmead together, sure, but disappear afterwards through dinner?

The boys were the first upperclassmen to arrive at dinner. While waiting for Hermione to arrive, Harry stared at Draco across the room. Draco had his eyes averted, but his cheeks were tinted slightly. Harry knew that Draco could tell he was watching him, and it made his stomach flutter.

"Where did you disappear off to?" Hermione asked, sitting down next to Harry. He jumped and turned to look at his bushy-haired friend. She took one look at his grin and a similar one broke out across her face. "I presume you had a nice day, then?" Harry bit his lip and nodded. Hermione chuckled before grabbing a goblet of pumpkin juice. Harry couldn't concentrate on anything except for the memory of Draco's lips against his own, the feel of their bodies pressed together. Hermione elbowed him in the side as his sleeve attempted to run through the soup.

"I'm not actually that hungry," Harry said, downing a glass of water. "I think I'll head to the library or something." He hurried out of the Great Hall and waited near the entrance to the staircases. He hoped that Draco would catch his hint and follow him. He desperately wanted to spend more time with Draco before the day was up.

Draco watched Harry depart dinner without eating. He stood up as well, sprouting off some excuse to Pansy about how he wasn't feeling too well and he was going to ask Pomfrey for something to calm his stomach. Neither Slytherin looked like they bought the excuse, but they didn't say anything.

Harry was waiting for him at the foot of the stairs, and Draco smirked. "Honestly, Harry. You couldn't last one hour without me?" Harry rolled his eyes as they began walking up the staircases and heading back towards the Room of Requirement. "I'm touched."

"Touched in the head," Harry muttered, and Draco elbowed him. Harry feigned hurt and they both laughed. If anyone were to walk past the two, they would see a Slytherin and a Gryffindor getting along, walking close together and laughing at a shared joke. They would probably run to consult Madame Pomfrey to make sure they weren't losing their minds.

Once inside the Room of Requirement, which had taken on the same look as it had had earlier, Draco sat down on the large couch and he pulled Harry onto his lap. Harry blushed and fidgeted slightly. He could feel the nervousness bubbling up inside of his chest. He wasn't sure how far this would go, and he wasn't sure how far he would be comfortable with going.

Draco brushed the hair out of Harry's face. "You should get your hair trimmed," he said quietly as he ran his fingers along Harry's face, tracing his strong jawbone. Draco licked his lips and Harry watched with fascination as the pink tongue flicked out to wet equally pink lips.

"Maybe I like my hair long," Harry said. Draco shook his head.

"With your hair long, I can't see your eyes." A pair of large hands rested themselves on Harry's hips, and he was pulled closer to Draco's chest. "I love your eyes," the blond whispered quietly in Harry's ear, his breath fanning across his neck. He shivered and closed his eyes. Draco pressed his lips to Harry's neck softly, and Harry nearly came undone with the small touch. His neck was his largest erogenous zone.

Harry clutched Draco's shirt tightly as the blond began to softly pepper kisses across his neck before moving towards his jaw. Harry was trying his hardest not to gasp aloud, but it was becoming harder and harder with each press of lips to his neck. Draco's lips finally met Harry's, and Harry pressed Draco against the couch as he kissed him hard. A low groan came from the back of Draco's throat, and Harry could feel his blood rushing south.

Harry slid his hands up into Draco's hair and tilted his head. He writhed around on Draco's lap slightly, and Draco grasped Harry's hips tightly as he gasped against Harry's mouth. "Harry, you can't do that," he mumbled against Harry's lips. Harry did it again, and Draco let out a high pitched keen. "Harry."

Harry nibbled on Draco's bottom lip before pulling it between his teeth. The lips beneath his slowly parted, and the temperature of the room went up twenty degrees. As Harry tenatively touched the tip of his tongue against Draco's, a loud voice exploded from behind them.

Harry fell off of Draco's lap as Ron Weasley's voice came screeching from behind them. "What the bleeding fuck is this?" he demanded. Harry got off of the floor and turned to face Ron, who was the color of an eggplant. Harry was surprised there wasn't steam coming out of his ears, actually. Draco's hands were covering his face.

"What are you doing here, Ron?" Harry asked, trying to keep his voice steady. This was not how his day was supposed to go. This was also not how Ron was supposed to find out about this. His entire body was shaking, and he felt like he was going to cry.

"What are _you_ doing here with _him_?" Ron screeched, pointing his finger at Draco, who still had his face covered with his hands. Harry didn't blame him. Being caught snogging Harry Potter was probably not high on his list of priorities.

"None of your damn business," Harry said, clenching his fists. Did Harry tell Ron how to live his life?

"I think it is my damn business when you run around snogging _Malfoy_, Harry! Do you know who you were kissing?"

"Obviously I know who I was kissing, Ron. I initiated it." Ron's blue eyes bugged out.

"This is _Malfoy_ we're talking about, Harry! He's the _son of a Death Eater_." Harry could practically hear Draco's anger rising behind him. Draco might not care for his father much, but he didn't want to hear people talk badly about him, either. "He hates us!"

"I know who he is, Ron, and I know who is father is," Harry snapped. "I wouldn't really give a damn if his father was Voldemort."

"You can't be serious," Ron said, paling. "You can't be fucking serious!"

"I'm dead serious." Harry's fingernails were dug so far into his palms that he was sure he would have marks for days. "Get out."

"You can't make me do anything!" shouted Ron, who was slowly beginning to turn a nasty shade of puce. Harry drew his wand, and Ron backed towards the door.

"I said get out, Ron." The redhead stared at the phoenix feather wand gripped tightly in Harry's hand before backing out of the room. He shut the door without a word, and when it finally closed, Harry picked up the nearest thing and chucked it at the wall. "_Fuck_!"

Draco was still frozen in the same position he had been in for the last five minutes. Harry sat down next to him and pulled Draco's hands away from his face. He was amazed to see that there were tears in Draco's eyes. The blond tried to blink them away, but it didn't work.

"Harry... We can't..." Draco whispered, trying to pull away from Harry. "My father..." Harry wanted to punch something. Draco was so terrified of his father that he was _crying_ over the fact that they had just been caught.

Harry crawled onto Draco's lap once more and pulled him close. "We'll be fine. Lucius won't find out, and we'll be fine." It felt strange to be the one doing the comforting, because for the past six months, Draco had been comforting Harry. Now that Harry had someone that made him just as happy as Cedric had, if not even happier, he couldn't let him go over something like a disapproving father. If he lost Draco... he didn't even want to think about it.

They stayed in that position for a long time, comforting each other until Draco finally looked up at Harry. He kissed him on the lips softly for a moment. "It's getting late..."

"I'm not leaving. I can't deal with Ron right now," Harry told Draco. "If you want to stay with me, I won't object." Draco smiled. The magic in the room wavered, and the interior transformed to resemble a posh bedroom. A large king-sized bed lay where the dining area had been, and a wardrobe sat next to it. Harry pulled Draco to his feet and over to the bed. They both knew that nothing would happen tonight, and they were fine with that.

After finding pyjama pants in the wardrobe, they changed and crawled into the bed. Draco spooned against Harry's back and pressed several butterfly kisses against the junction of his neck and shoulder. Harry shivered. Draco chuckled against the skin, causing Harry to shiver once more. Long fingers danced across Harry's abdomen and along his sides.

"Draco, you're venturing into dangerous territory," Harry warned. His entire body was beginning to heat up again. Draco grazed Harry's neck with his teeth, and Harry gasped loudly. Maybe staying the entire night in a bed with Draco wasn't such a good idea after all. Harry turned his head to the right and captured Draco's lips with his own. Within moments, Draco had him flat on his back and his entire body was pressed to Harry's. The skin to skin contact was incredible. Draco sucked Harry's bottom lip into his mouth and flicked his tongue over it, and Harry's hips bucked upwards against his will. Draco's tongue slid against Harry's, and they both groaned in unison at the feeling of pure bliss.

When Draco began to suck on Harry's tongue slowly, Harry nearly came undone right then and there. He ground his hips against his boyfriend, trying desperately to get some sort of friction. He knew that they needed to stop, but he couldn't for the life of him think of _why_. Everything felt so good. When Draco finally pulled away to breathe, Harry managed to choke out,

"We need to stop." Draco nodded and pressed a kiss to Harry's throat. "Really, Draco, we need to." Draco sighed deeply and rolled onto his back. His breathing was labored, and his cheeks were flushed a delicious shade of pink. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," Draco said quietly, reaching over to remove Harry's glasses. "I got carried away." Harry rolled onto his stomach and placed his head on Draco's chest. He wrapped his legs around one of Draco's and pulled him close.

"Goodnight, Draco," he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to Draco's bare chest.

"Goodnight, Harry."


	15. Chapter 15

_The last POV is Ron's.  
><em>

_Chapter 15_

The next morning, which was thankfully a Sunday, Harry and Draco departed on the seventh floor. Harry headed to Gryffindor Tower, which was a place that he honestly didn't want to be at the moment. He wasn't sure if Ron would tell the entire House about him and Draco, or if he would sit on it until they had another row and shout it loud enough for the entire school to hear. It would probably be the latter, because Ron was just that charming.

"Baubles," Harry muttered to the Fat Lady, who swung open to let him in. He crawled through the portrait hole and looked around the room. Not many people were up yet, for it was quite early in the morning, and it was a weekend. Harry sat down on one of the many couches that littered the room and waited for Hermione to come down. He wasn't in the mood to go up to his dorm and change clothes. That meant he would be in a small, confined space with Ron and at the moment, that probably wasn't the best idea in the whole world.

Harry didn't have to wait long for Hermione to come downstairs. The moment she spotted him, she ran to him and hugged him tight. "I'm so sorry, Harry! If I had known that he was going to follow you I would have stopped him! I can't believe he would do something like that-" Harry placed his hand over Hermione's mouth, effectively cutting off her rambling.

"Hermione, it's not your fault. He was suspicious and angry beforehand. This was just another thing to add to the fire." Harry removed his hand from his friend's mouth and ran it through his hair. "I threatened him with my wand, though." Hermione gasped and covered her mouth.

"You didn't." He nodded. "Oh, Harry." Hermione hated to see Ron and Harry fight. It had been bad enough last year, but this was already worse than the Goblet of Fire incident. Hermione didn't know if Ron had an objection to _all_ gay people, or if it was just because Harry was with Draco. "How did Draco take it?"

"He cried," Harry said quietly, wishing he could get the image of Draco with tears in his eyes out of his mind. "It's all okay now, though. Or at least I hope it is." Hermione squeezed his hand. "Did Ron tell everyone or just you?" Hermione worried her bottom lip between her teeth.

"Well, it started out as just telling me, but you know how he is, Harry..." Harry took a deep breath. "He shouted at me, and... well, quite a few people heard."

"What did he say?"

"Something along the lines of '_Malfoy was trying to swallow Harry's tongue_' and other crude things along those lines," she said quietly. Harry pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger. What would Draco do once the rumors began to fly? What would happen between them?

By the time lunch had rolled around, Draco had heard at least twenty different rumors containing him and Potter as the main subject. He had gritted his teeth and ignored everyone, but he couldn't do that forever. His father was a school govenor, and managed to hear everything that went through the halls of Hogwarts, and he would _surely_ hear about this.

Draco skipped dinner all together and headed to his dorm, ignoring the stares he was getting. This was absolutely ridiculous. Why should his relationship be of any importance to these wankers? Of course-because they had no fucking lives.

The next month and a half went by in the same fashion. Draco and Harry got stared at everywhere they went, as if people were watching to see how they interacted. They were meeting in secret still, trying to deter the rumors as best as possible by not showing any public affection, but it was hard. Harry hadn't spoken to Ron since February, and it was April now.

They were in the Room of Requirement, having their last D.A. meeting before Easter. Everyone was practicing Patronuses, and only a few had actually managed to conjure one. Draco was having a tough time, and it was really beginning to piss him off.

"_Expecto Patronum!_" Draco shouted, and a large, silver vapor shot out of his wand. It faded after a few seconds, leaving Draco more angry. Why couldn't he work this spell? He was advanced with magic.

Harry sauntered up next to him, smiling. "Having some trouble there, Draco?" The blond scowled at Harry, who laughed. "You need to think of your happiest memory. Allow it to fill you up from your head to your toes." Draco took a deep breath and tried to think of the happiest memory he had. Nothing from his childhood was particularly _the best_. Sure, he had had an adequate childhood where he had gotten everything he wanted, but that wasn't real happiness, that was material happiness. He moved onto thinking about the last half-year, and realized that it was the only time he's ever truly been happy.

Draco said the incantation once more, and a brilliant white peacock burst forth from his wand. It turned to stare at him before lowering its head in a bow. Draco stared, eyes wide. Had he just conjured a Patronus? Harry reached out and squeezed his free hand, causing Draco to lose his concentration, and the peacock faded into nothing. He felt extremely accomplished.

In the midst of his happiness, he hadn't noticed the door to the room opening slightly, or the shaking house-elf slipping between the students. When he collided with Draco and Harry's legs, they looked down in surprise.

"_Dobby_?" Draco asked, surprised. His father had said that Dobby had had a horrible accident while working on something at the manor. Obviously, that had been a lie. "What are you doing here?" The small elf was shaking like a leaf, and his green-tennisball sized eyes were wide with what could only be perceived as fear.

Harry crouched down so he was level with the elf. "Dobby, what's going on?" he asked. Dobby shook his head and tried to hit himself. Harry grabbed the creature's knobbly arms and held them to his sides. "Dobby."

"She's coming, Harry Potter!"

Draco thought he was going to pass out for a moment. The only 'she' he could think of that would cause Dobby this much alarm would be Umbridge. Draco turned to face the rest of his classmates, who were watching with large, fearful eyes. "Well, what are you waiting for? Run!"

Everyone bolted for the door at once, and the portal widened to let everyone through. Students scattered in every direction. Draco sincerely hoped that they wouldn't try to make it back to their common rooms, and that they would seek solace in a toilet or the library, or even an abandoned classroom. Draco grabbed Harry's hand and pulled him from the room. There was a boy's toilet at the other end of the hall, and if they could make it there, they would be fine.

As always though, when Harry Potter is involved, things did not go so smoothly. The boys went flying and sprawled across the floor, and Draco felt his lip split open. Someone had hit them with a tripping jinx. He sat up and spit blood on the floor.

"Professor, I've caught someone!" a loud voice came from the direction they had been coming from. Draco knew that voice. Oh, Merlin. Vincent loomed into view, a large smile on his trollish features. It slid off like hot butter when he noticed Draco and who he was with. Who he was still holding hands with. "Draco? What are you doin' here with 'im?"

Before Draco got the chance to answer, however, Umbridge herself came waddling around the corner, fat wand clutched in her stubby fist. Her toad-like face had a huge grin upon it. "Well, well, well," she started, "look what we have here. Mister Malfoy and Mister Potter." She ordered the boys to stand and they followed her to her office, which lie on the third floor.

Draco was gripped with fear. His father would hear about this from Umbridge herself, for they were both very important people in the Ministry. He didn't even _want_ to think about what would happen to him once Lucius caught word of Draco's conspiring against the High Inquisitor.

Ron Weasley was already waiting in Professor Umbridge's office when Harry Potter and the _Ferret_ were carted through the oak door. They were walking close enough to each other for their arms to be brushing, and the sight sent anger rushing through Ron like fire. Draco Malfoy was _bad_ news, and Harry just _didn't_ see that.

Umbridge walked around her desk and she pulled a list from off the top of a pile of papers. She held it up, and Ron recognized it instantly. It was the peice of parchment Hermione had written up that contained all of the signatures of _Dumbledore's Army_. One name was glowing bright blue, but Ron couldn't make out who's it was. Umbridge held it out to Harry, who stared at it. "Do you know what this is, Mister Potter?"

"Yes," Harry answered coldly, never taking his eyes off the paper.

"And what is it, Mister Potter?" Her voice was dripping with artificial sweetness.

"A list of the members of _Dumbledore's Army_." Umbridge smiled, satisfied.

"And I assume that you were the proprietor of this entire group, Mister Potter," the woman said. Harry said nothing. "I can't imagine why someone like you, Mister Malfoy-" She turned to look at Draco, who's silver eyes were wide "-would have signed up for something such as this. Did Mister Potter force you to join his group?"

Draco chewed on his lip so hard that he looked like he was going to chew directly through it, and for a moment, Ron hoped he would so that his _perfect face _ would be fucked up, even if just for a while. After being silent for a few moments, Draco said, "No. I joined to gain information for the Ministry, but it seems that you managed to catch word of Potter's illicit activities without my help." Hermione gasped loudly, and Ron's ears began to turn red. Harry's green eyes widened. Ron _knew_ that Malfoy had been bad news, that he had been lying to Harry and planning something horrible right from the very start!

"Well, Mister Malfoy, it seems that I have indeed come into some recent information regarding the activities of Mister Potter. You should have come forth with your information sooner. I thank you though, for your attempts." Draco nodded stiffly, and Umbridge turned to face Harry, who was white as a sheet. She grabbed him by the arm and tugged him out the door, explaining that he would need to see the Headmaster.

As soon as they were gone, Ron wrenched free of his captor and jumped on Draco, knocking the blond to the floor. He straddled Draco's waist and began to throw punches against his jaw.

"Ron!" Hermione shouted. "Ron, stop it!" Malfoy wasn't even fighting back; he was just lying there and letting Ron beat the shit out of him. Finally, someone pulled Ron off Draco, who was bleeding profusely from his nose and lip, and his cheek was split open. He lay there for several moments before getting up. He spat blood on the floor of the office and wiped his nose on his white Oxford shirt. Ron was still fuming when Draco turned around and walked out of the office.

"Why did you stop me?" Ron shouted at Neville, who had been the one to drag him back from pummeling Draco further into the ground. "The bastard deserved it!"

"Ron, maybe we don't know the full story!" Hermione said, almost in tears. Ron turned to her, suddenly even more angry than before. Why was she siding with Malfoy?

"The whole story? What is there to know? The bastard has been spying on us and spying on Harry! That's unforgivable." Hermione turned away from Ron, frowning. He pulled out of Neville's grasp and sat down on the floor. He seriously needed to calm down.


	16. Chapter 16

_Enjoy the cute filler-chapter.  
><em>

_Chapter Sixteen_

A little after half twelve in the morning, Harry stumbled out of Dumbledore's office, covered in dust with bits of rubble in his hair. Surprisingly enough, he wasn't being expelled from Hogwarts. Dumbledore had taken the wrap for _Dumbledore's Army_ and had then fled the school with Fawkes. Harry had watched in amazement (or as best as he could with Kingsley laying on top of him and trying to keep him from exploding) as Dumbledore knocked out several Aurors and disappeared without a trace. Everyone was absolutely flabbergasted.

Most of all, what was worrying him was what Draco had said earlier in Umbridge's office. Harry knew, just _knew_ in the pit of his heart that what Draco had said didn't have an ounce of truth in it. It had something to do with Draco's father, of that Harry was positive. Draco had felt he had to lie to keep his father from finding out that he was going against the Ministry, and ultimately his father. Harry shivered at the thought of what Lucius would say or do to Draco if he knew what was going on behind the wrought iron gates of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Harry needed to talk to Draco and make sure he was alright. He wouldn't be surprised if al of the Gryffindors that had been left in Umbridge's office had attempted murder against the haughty blond. He desperately needed a shower first, though, and sleep. It was almost one in the morning, and considering the circumstances, it would probably be best if he wasn't caught out after curfew tonight.

The next morning, Harry rose early. The sky outside of the tower windows was barely a light blue, signifying that it was hardly five in the morning yet. He dressed quickly in his black trousers and white Oxford shirt before attempting to tie his Gryffindor tie. He had never really gotten the hang of it. Hermione usually tied it for him because he massacred the poor thing. After slipping on his trainers, Harry slipped out of the dormitory and headed down to the lake, hoping that Draco would show up.

The early morning air was cool and crisp, and it smelled like rain. There were quite a few grey clouds overhead, impregnated with rain, ready to burst at any moment. There was a slight breeze that ruffled Harry's raven locks, making his nose itch as it tickled across his skin. He sat down on the bank of the lake and tossed rocks for around half an hour before footsteps behind him alerted him to someone else's presence. Before he could turn around, Draco sat down next to him and rested his head upon Harry's shoulder. Harry wrapped an arm tightly around Draco's shoulders, squeezing lightly.

"I was worried about you," Draco said quietly. Harry pressed a kiss to the top of Draco's head. "I was scared that they'd expel you and I'd never see you again. Is that silly?"

"It's not silly to be scared," Harry told him. In truth, Harry had been scared as well. He had already been through almost being expelled once, and he never wanted to go through it again. "I was worried about you, too. Did anyone hurt you after I was taken to Dumbledore's office?" Harry could feel Draco flinch underneath his hand.

"I got into a fight with Ginger." Harry rolled his eyes. _Of course it would be Ron who attacked Draco. Who else would it have been? Hermione? Highly unlikely. _"He broke my nose." Harry turned to Draco then and lifted Draco's chin until he was looking Draco in the eyes. He ran his fingers over Draco's perfect, pointed nose. He must have healed it. Harry dropped a kiss onto the tip and released Draco's chin.

"Are you alright?"

"Of course I'm alright," Draco said, sounding slightly offended. Harry had to suppress the urge to chuckle. "Nothing a few healing spells couldn't fix."

"You're pants at healing spells, Draco," Harry pointed out, and Draco crossed his arms.

"Pansy isn't."

"There's something Parkinson can do?" Harry wondered aloud, and Draco whapped him on the arm. "Ow. That hurt."

"It was supposed to," Draco grumbled. A comfortable silence crossed between them, and they watched the sky grow lighter by the minute. Eventually, Draco spoke. "I'm sorry for what I said to Umbridge yesterday."

"It's alright."

"It's not, actually," Draco insisted, raising his head and looking at Harry. "I should have told the truth, and I apologize for lying." Harry reached for Draco's hand and he squeezed it. It was cold.

"I understand why you did it, though, so all is forgiven." Draco smiled weakly, and Harry kissed his lips softly. Draco kissed Harry back languidly, keeping their kiss sweet and causing a light haze to settle into their minds. Draco pulled away first, and when he did, there was a rare, large smile on his face that made Harry's stomach flutter like it was filled with millions of golden snitches.

Eventually they made their way towards the castle for breakfast. Harry knew that the morning would probably be extremely awkward, what with Ron, Hermione, Neville, and Ginny having heard Draco's 'confession' the previous night. He fully expected Ron to start hounding him, telling him that Draco was a liar, a user, and that he needed to break up with him and curse him until he couldn't feel his legs.

They parted outside the Great Hall with a kiss before both of hem went to their separate tables. Draco received a warm welcome, for the Slytherins from the Inquisitorial Squad had also hear Draco's 'confession' and had believed every single word of it. Draco was really a talented liar, but four out of five of the Slytherins that had been in the room were also thicker than all of Harry's textbooks put together.

When Harry sat down next to Hermione, she smiled at him but said nothing. Ron looked at him before diving back into his hashbrowns. Harry slowly began to eat his breakfast, waiting for the bomb to explode. When he was half done with his eggs, Ron said, "Why are you still with that slimy git? You heard what he said last night." Hermione shot Ron a warning look, reminding him that they were in public and that people would no doubt be listening in.

"He was lying, Ron," Harry said calmly, not looking up at the redhead and instead chasing around a red pepper chunk with his fork. He honestly didn't give a rat's arse what Ron said anymore, because all of it was complete and total rubbish, meant to piss him off.

"How do you know he's not lying to you?" Ron demanded. Harry shook his head and rubbed his hand across his forehead. Was Ron really that thick?

"It's this little thing called _trust_ Ron, surely you've heard of it?" Harry sniped, giving up on his food and getting up from the table. Hermione looked at him, frowning. He could tell that she was sorry for the way that Ron was acting, but he knew that she couldn't do anything about it and she had nothing to feel sorry for. Ron made his own choice on how to act.

Harry made his way to Transfiguration after grabbing his bag from the common room. He lay his head on the desk and waited for the students to arrive. It was going to be a _long_ day.


	17. Chapter 17

_Sorry it's taken so long! I've been kinda busy.  
>I bet you'll enjoy this chapter. :)<br>Chapter Seventeen_

The beginning of May brought with it the rise of emotions and the frantic need to cram a bit of last minute studying in before exams, O.W.L.s, or N.E.W.T.s. Every lesson was review material, but even then, people were scrabbling to go over notes and people were studying until they fell right out of their chairs and onto the floors.

Draco and Harry were sitting in the back corner of the library, books and notes spread out around them across two small tables. Draco was attempting to explain the importance of the Goblin Wars to Harry, but Harry was more intent on paying attention to the way that Draco's lips moved when he talked.

"Have you listened to a single word I've said?" Draco finally snapped as Harry stared at him, unblinking, his eyes completely glazed over. The black haired boy jumped slightly as he realized he was being spoken to and he shook his head, trying to gather his wits about him.

"Huh? What? Oh, yeah." Draco rolled his eyes.

"What was the last thing I said, then?"

"You asked what the last thing you said was," Harry replied cheekily, and Draco whacked him upside the head with a sheaf of notes. Harry murmured something that sounded suspiciously like "abusive ferrets" and got himself whacked again.

"You need to concentrate," Draco said, dropping his notes back onto the table, leaving Harry rubbing his head where he had been smacked. "I know that you're good on everything else, sans Divination, but aren't we all?" He scratched a spot right above his nose with a long, pale finger. "History of Magic is the only thing you've got no idea what you're doing in. Do you even bother to take notes?" Harry shrugged noncommittally, and Draco frowned. "That would explain a lot. Copying Granger's notes will get you nowhere in life."

Harry groaned. "That's what she said, too."

"Well, she is smart," Draco pointed out, tapping a pencil on the table. Harry groaned again and let his forehead hit the desk with a loud _thwack_ sound. Draco looked at him for a moment before turning back to his notes, which he had organized by subject, alphabetically, and color coordination. He was worse than Hermione.

"Can we please take a break?" Harry mumbled against the wood of the table. "My brain is already threatening to run out of my ears."

"You haven't even listened to a word I've said!" Draco protested, but when Harry raised his head and gave him puppy eyes, he sighed and threw up his hands in a sign of defeat. "Okay, I give up. You're going to fail your History of Magic O.W.L, and I can definitely say that I tried to save your score."

Harry leaned in and kissed Draco's cheek. "Thank you."

"Whatever," Draco grumbled.

They both packed up their piles of notes and books and put them in their bags before heading back to the Room of Requirement, where they had been staying for the better part of a month. Harry had been met with severe resistance in the Gryffindor common room when it came to Ronald Weasley, and he had opted to stay in the Room instead of fighting a war every single time he had to go to sleep. Hermione wished that they would just work it out so that she could have her two best friends back, but it didn't look like it was going to happen any time soon. Draco didn't have near as much trouble as Harry did. Sure, there were many Slytherins who thought he was absolutely off his rocker to be dating _Harry Potter_ of all people, but his friends were supportive, at least on the outside. He had decided that staying with Harry was the right thing to do, and Harry couldn't exactly come camp out in the Slytherin dormitory every night, so they had wound up staying in the Room of Requirement.

They had found out a way to ask the room not to allow anyone else in the room while they were inside, unless they allowed them. You had to know about what the room entailed to be allowed in, much like it had been when the D.A. was going on. This gave the room some semblance of privacy.

Harry dropped his bag on the floor near the sofa and Draco picked it up and sat it near the foot of the bed. "Last time you left it there, I tripped and nearly broke my nose again." Harry snickered, and Draco flipped him a rude hand gesture. After toeing off his leather shoes, Draco curled up next to Harry on the dark brown couch and rested his head on Harry's shoulder. He ran his fingers along Harry's stomach lightly, mesmerized by the fact that even through Harry's white Oxford shirt, he could see the stomach muscles twitching.

Harry grabbed his hand and slowly kissed the tips of his fingers, and Draco shivered. It felt like bolts of electricity were shooting through his body, starting from the tips of his fingers and running to where his shoulder met up with his torso. Draco pulled his hand out of Harry's grasp and climbed onto Harry's lap. He kissed from his forehead down to his jaw, and then finally pressed his lips to his boyfriend's.

It was slow, sensual, and filled with passion. Draco slowly ran his tongue across Harry's upper lip before sucking the lower one into his mouth and grazing his teeth across it. Harry gasped into his mouth, and he took the chance to join his tongue with Harry's. They both groaned quietly as tongue met tongue. Draco ran his hands up Harry's torso and grasped the Gryffindor tie. He loosened it enough for him to be able to slide it over Harry's head, and he pulled back just long enough to do that. His hands made quick work of the many buttons on Harry's shirt, and within moments of finally getting Harry's shirt off, he felt hands moving to unbutton his own.

Harry groaned in frustration when his shaking hands couldn't manage the dexterous task of unbuttoning Draco's shirt, and he pulled it open, sending small, white buttons scattering across the floor. Draco's protest at having his shirt destroyed was cut off by the assault of lips on his neck, nibbling and laving, leaving trails of fire that shot straight to his groin. Before Harry could move past his collarbone, Draco slid off of Harry's lap and onto the floor. Harry watched him with heavy-lidded eyes, and gasped loudly when Draco began to pepper his stomach with feather-light kisses.

"What-what are you doing?" Harry asked, his voice rough, when Draco sucked on the patch of skin above Harry's bellybutton. Draco was heading into dangerous territory. The blond looked up at Harry, his silver eyes dilated until they were nearly black. The sight caused his heart to beat faster.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" Draco murmured coyly, his hands ghosting across the bulge in Harry's jeans. His hips jerked forward of their own accord, and Harry bit his lip. Draco's long and nimble fingers, which were shaking only slightly, began to undo Harry's belt and then undo the button on his denims. For a moment, Harry thought he might come in his pants with all of the touching that was going on, but when Draco pulled off his boxers and lifted his erection off of his stomach. A loud moan burst from his throat and his hips canted forward again.

Draco pumped Harry's prick with his hand several times, running his thumb along the thick vein that ran along the bottom before enveloping the tip with his mouth. Harry's hips jerked up hard, and Draco put his hands on Harry's hips to hold him still. He ran his tongue across the slit before taking the entire length in his mouth and beginning to bob his head up and down slowly, swallowing whenever Harry's prick hit the back of his throat. The noises that were coming from the boy above him were driving Draco absolutely mad. Harry's head was thrown back, and his eyes were screwed tightly shut. His hands were clutched in Draco's downy soft hair, his knuckles almost white.

Draco hummed around Harry's erection and before Harry could warn him, Harry was shouting loudly, his orgasm ripping through his body. Draco kissed up Harry's stomach after tucking him back in his pants. Harry was breathing hard, his eyes still closed. Draco kissed him softly on the mouth before snuggling up against his chest and closing his eyes as well. They fell into a light sleep not soon after.


	18. Chapter 18

_I know that this chapter is extremely short. It's important though. I will not be going through the Department of Mysteries _at all_._

_Chapter 18_

O.W.L.s had finally arrived, and at the moment, the fifth years were sitting their History of Magic exams. The Great Hall was absolutely quiet, save for the sounds of quills scratching and parchment ruffling, and the occasional cough or sniffle. The large room was quite warm, and the loads of sunlight filtering in through the stained-glass windows didn't help at all.

Draco was writing so fast that his hand was beginning to cramp. He was trying to write down everything before he lost track of what he had been thinking, or he somehow misplaced it in the whirlwind of thoughts that was in his head at the moment. He had at least a foot and a half of parchment so far, and he wasn't anywhere near finished. He wanted to scream in frustration. There were so many minute details about the Goblin Wars and Rebllions in the eighteenth century!

He had finally finished his test and was flexing his hand, which was now practically screaming in pain when a loud shout came from the other side of the hall. Everyone's heads turned to see Harry Potter, lying on the ground, writhing and screaming, his hands clutching his forehead, his eyes screwed shut. Draco felt the bottom of his stomach drop out. _Oh no_.

Draco watched helplessly as Professor Tofty helped Harry into the Entrance Hall. Harry was protesting, saying that he was fine, that he had just fallen asleep, had a nightmare. As they walked far enough away that no one could hear them anymore, Draco leapt from his seat and took his paper up to the other Professors and then grabbed his bag and ran from the hall. _What in the hell was going on?_

He knew about the nightmares that Harry got through Voldemort-he had witnessed a few while sharing space with Harry in the Room of Requirement, and he had heard his father mention it a few times to Professor Snape when he had overheard things that he wasn't supposed to be listening to. Obviously, this had been a very, very bad nightmare.

Draco caught Harry on his way up the marble staircase. "Harry, wait! Harry!" He stopped and turned at the sound of his name. He was still ashen faced and slightly sweaty.

"What, Draco? I have to get to the hospital wing!" Harry snapped, his voice sounding slightly hysterical.

"What's going on?" He ran up the stairs towards Harry. "What did you see?"

Harry began walking again, and Draco hurried to catch up with him. "He's got Sirius."

"Sirius? Who-Sirius Black? My cousin? What the devil is going on?" Draco understood that _he_ meant Voldemort, but Sirius Black? What did he have to do with anything?

"Sirius Black is the only family I've got left," Harry explained, practically out of breath. He was walking so fast that he was nearly going at a jog. "He's my godfather."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, _what_?" When did this happen? Why wasn't he told? _What_?

"Draco, I don't have _time_ for this!" Harry shouted, turning to stare at his boyfriend. "Voldemort has Sirius, and he's going to _kill_ him if I don't do something!" Draco swallowed heavily and nodded, and they resumed their jog to the hospital wing.

To Harry's extreme frustration, Professor McGonagall had been moved to St. Mungos earlier that day, and she was no longer at the castle. He had nowhere to turn. He stormed out of the infirmary, leaving a ruffled Madame Pomfrey behind. Draco trailed after Harry. "Can't you firecall? Make sure it wasn't a trick?"

"All of the fireplaces are being watched..." He trailed off for a moment. "Except one. Brilliant!"

"Brilliant?" All of this was going too fast for Draco. He was extremely out of the loop, he felt like a stupid second year, and Harry was changing emotions every four seconds.

They were interrupted by Hermione, Ginny, Neville, Luna Lovegood, and surprisingly Ronald Weasley bounding up to them. "What's happened?" Hermione asked.

"He's got Sirius," Harry told them.

"Stubby Boardman?" Luna asked, her voice airy. Everyone promtly ignored her.

They quickly began to devise a plan to lure Umbridge away from her office so Harry could use the fireplace while Draco stood next to Harry, saying nothing. He couldn't get involved. His father would murder him, and his Aunt Bellatrix would help. He shivered at the thought of that madwoman anywhere near his mother.

"Draco," Harry said quietly, turning away from his friends as they headed down the corridor, "go back to the Room of Requirement, and wait for me, alright?" He pressed a chaste kiss to Draco's lips before hurrying off after his friends, leaving Draco standing in the corridor, alone, and positively sick with worry.


	19. Chapter 19

_Well, two updates in one day. Feel special. :D This is kind of short again, and I apologize.  
><em>

_Chapter Nineteen  
><em>

Draco cast what had to be his eightieth _Tempus Charm _in an hour as he paced around Harry's and his makeshift common room-bedroom. The spell flashed 11:38 PM in a violent purple before fading. Harry and his friends had been gone since around five that afternoon. Harry had sent a message over the D.A. galleons telling Draco that he was going to London to rescue Sirius. Draco was absolutely terrified. The Dark Lord meant Death Eaters, and Death Eaters meant Lucius Malfoy and Bellatrix Lestrange.

The worst case scenarios kept popping into his head and he thought me might drive himself absolutely crazy if his mind didn't _shut the fuck up_ in the next five minutes. He groaned loudly in frustration. It sounded slightly strangled in his throat. Deciding that thinking any more would put him in an early grave, Draco pulled a book of Muggle poetry off of the bookshelf and immersed himself in it.

Draco was jolted out of a light sleep by the sound of the door closing. He sat up and his book slid off his chest and fell onto the floor. Harry stood in front of the couch, looking practically dead on his feet. The sun hadn't risen yet, so it couldn't be more than five in the morning. Harry was covered in dirt and his shirt was torn, showing a gash in his arm. His face was banged up underneath the grime. What really struck Draco though was Harry's eyes. In twelve hours the shine that had filled them was gone and back was the almost deadened, hollow look from Autumn.

"Harry?" Draco asked tentatively, standing up. "Harry, are you okay?" Without warning, Harry's knees buckled and Draco rushed forward to catch his boyfriend. Harry clutched to Draco's shirt so hard his knuckles turned white.

"Don't leave me," he murmured into the folds of the white fabric. "_Please, _don't leave."

"Why would I leave?" Draco asked quietly, walking them backwards until they hit the bed and could sit down.

"He's dead," Harry said, his voice crackling.

"Who?"

The one word - "Sirius" - that came from Harry's mouth caused him to break down into the heart wrenching sobs that Draco hadn't heard in months. He pulled Harry close and kissed the top of his head repeatedly while whispering soothing noises. Harry had lost yet another person in his life, and this time it was more than a boyfriend-it was family. It may not be blood, but it was still family, and it was tearing Harry apart.

Harry surprised Draco when he began talking. "He wasn't even there. It was a trap, a plan to get a prophecy. Your father and Bellatrix Lestrange were the ringleaders." Draco's blood ran cold. "The Order showed up, and we all started dueling... Bellatrix hit him with some sort of curse, and he went through The Veil..." Harry's voice was sounding choked again.

Draco forced Harry to look him in the eye. Harry's green eyes were watery, and his face was tear streaked. His jaw was trembling. "Harry James Potter, this is in _no _way your fault. Accidents happen. You couldn't have possibly known that the Dark Lord was planting a false image in your head! You did what you thought you had to do to save your godfather. This is _not_ your fault." Draco wiped a few of Harry's tears, which proved futile, for they kept leaking out. "Cedric wasn't your fault either."

Harry wrapped his arms around Draco's neck and pressed his face into his shoulder. Draco moved them into a more comfortable position, lying back against the many pillows that adorned the bed. Harry curled up against Draco's side.

"I would tell you that it's okay, but that seems awfully clichéd," Draco mumbled. He was yammering on now, hoping the sound of a voice might calm Harry down. "You and I both proved that things _can _get better over time." Harry nodded shakily against his collarbone and Draco sighed.

"You know," Draco began, continuing his mindless prattle, "I wear my mother's cloak because it helps me feel safe, like I'm not so alone. She gave it to me when I was in third year because that year, Father got extremely abusive. He never physically hurt me, no, but he yelled often, and he liked to test his favorite hexes and curses out on me." Draco chuckled darkly. His father still liked to do those things. "My mother gave me that cloak because it was her favorite, because it smelled like her, and because when I was younger, I apparently used to curl up in it on the floor. It smells like her still. She gets it altered for me whenever it needs to be, despite how expensive a material it is." Draco hadn't noticed that Harry wasn't crying anymore, and that his breathing had leveled out into a deep rhythm. "My mother is the only person I actually care for, aside from you. My father was nothing more than someone to direct me through social graces."

When Draco finally stopped talking, he realized that his boyfriend was, indeed, asleep. He pressed a kiss to Harry's head and when he tried to move, Harry wrapped himself tighter around Draco. The blond chuckled and snuggled close to Harry, allowing sleep to take him over as well.


	20. Chapter 20

_Sorry I'm slow! It took me a long time to write this. I hope you guys like it.  
>Dedicated to Lissa, for making me a glorious graphic for this story. <em>

**Chapter 20**

Harry snuggled against Draco, who was already asleep underneath their silken sheets. It was too warm in the castle to use the heavy down comforter, and the two boys were covered from the waist down in sheets and pants only. Harry nuzzled Draco's warm skin with his nose, inhaling his boyfriend's always-present scent of spices and herbs. Draco's arms reflexively tightened around Harry, and he sighed in his sleep. Harry pressed a soft kiss to Draco's breastbone before closing his eyes and resting his head just above Draco's heart.

Today had been Draco's sixteenth birthday, and they had celebrated with Draco's friends in the Slytherin Common Room. Surprisingly, no one had tried to hex Harry, and no one had said anything about their relationship, either. Pansy Parkinson had actually _smiled_ at Harry when Draco wasn't looking, and Harry hoped that was a silent blessing. Harry wished that they could have spent Draco's sixteenth with a smattering of both of their friends, but they were a long way from that ever happening, if it ever would.

It had been almost a week since Sirius had passed away in the Department of Mysteries, and the guilt was still weighing heavily on Harry. Draco was watching him like a hawk, making sure that he didn't do anything stupid. Harry didn't know what to think anymore. It seemed that _everyone_ he got close to got hurt for some reason or another, and he was becoming scared that something horrible would happen to Draco as well.

School let out on Friday, and Harry wasn't quite ready for it to do so. Sure, this year had been extremely topsy-turvy, but it had also wound up being amazing in quite a few ways. He had gone from being depressed beyond all reason to… borderline in love with his schoolyard nemesis. The year wasn't exactly ending the best way, but he didn't want it to end nonetheless. He didn't want to spend two months with the Dursleys, suffering. He wanted to spend that time with Draco, doing anything and everything to occupy his time and keep his mind off of Sirius. He had the feeling that Draco didn't exactly want to go home, either.

Near Christmas, there was a breakout from Azkaban, and Draco's deranged Aunt Bellatrix had been one of the escapees. She had been at the Department of Mysteries with the other Death Eaters, along with Draco's father, who was now sitting in Azkaban, hopefully rotting. Draco was happy that his father wasn't in the house anymore, but he was absolutely terrified that his aunt had now taken up residence in his home.

Harry drifted off to sleep, and his dreams were filled with long, black corridors, flashes of green light, and cackling women named Bellatrix Lestrange.

ϟϟϟ

Draco awoke in the early hours of the morning. Harry was curled up on his side in the fetal position, as far from Draco as he could possibly be in the king-sized bed. Draco sighed and carded his fingers through his tousled blond hair. Harry had most likely had another nightmare and had neglected to wake Draco up.

Draco kissed Harry's temple before sliding out of the bed and heading into the loo to take a shower. The warm water would help loosen his tight muscles, and it would give him some time to just _relax_.

When Draco stepped out of the bathroom, a small towel wrapped around his waist, Harry was sitting up on the bed, scratching his forehead. His nose was scrunched up. Draco chuckled at his facial expression, drawing attention to himself. At the sight of Draco clad in only a towel, Harry made a strangled sound in the back of his throat. The sound set shockwaves straight to Draco's groin.

"Good morning," Draco said, leaning against the wall. Harry seemed almost incapable of speech.

"Good morning," he finally managed, his eyes still stuck to Draco's bare chest and scantily clad legs. Draco moved to stand in front of Harry.

"Is it?"

Harry looked up at Draco, who still had damp hair, mussed to the point of looking like he had just had passionate sex. "Very." Draco pushed Harry back against the mattress and climbed on top of him, his towel barely managing to stay on his hips. Harry's hands immediately went to Draco's waist, and the blond rocked his hips forward slightly, drawing forth a gasp that turned into a low moan from the boy underneath him.

Draco kissed Harry hard, maneuvering his tongue past Harry's lips immediately. He shivered at the exquisite taste of his boyfriend, who, even in the morning, managed to taste like heaven. Without warning, Harry flipped them over, never breaking the kiss. The only thing that was lost was Draco's towel, which slid off of the bed and onto the floor.

Harry pulled away from Draco, his eyes wide as he realized that he was completely naked underneath of him. "I-" Draco cut him off with a kiss. When he pulled away, he said quietly,

"Harry, I want you to make love to me." Again, Harry froze. He looked down at Draco, who was now biting his lip. His grey eyes were filled with... hope? Harry certainly hadn't expected _this_ to happen this morning. He answered Draco's request with a soft kiss, and Draco slid his hands into the waistband of Harry's pyjamas before sliding them down his hips and using his feet to kick them off. Harry wore no pants underneath his pyjamas. He hadn't bothered to put any on last night, and at the moment, he was very grateful for his moment of laziness.

"Draco, I... The only time I ever did this, I was..." He blushed, not even able to say the word _bottom_ in that context without feeling like he was talking about something taboo, despite what he was most likely about to do. Draco kissed him again, and Harry decided that he could definitely get used to kisses as a form of reassurance.

"It's okay," Draco told him. "I've never done this either." Harry nodded before grabbing his wand off of the bedside table. Both of them were hard already. It was just a matter of progressing further.

Harry sat back on his haunches and, before he went any farther, he admired Draco for a moment. His hair was wild, and his cheeks were flushed, as was most of his chest, which had a few small freckles here and there. His erection stood prominently out from a small mass of dusky blond curls, and it was just as pale as the rest of his body. The tip was leaking slightly, and it was absolutely _beautiful_.

Wand gripped tightly in hand, Harry cast a lubrication charm on his hand, coating his fingers in a viscous, gel-like liquid. He waited a moment for his body temperature to heat up the lubricant before trailing a finger over Draco's perineum, which drew forth a loud moan, and moving to stroke the pucker of skin that was Draco's entrance. Harry pushed his finger in until his finger was sheathed up to his second knuckle. It was so tight that Harry briefly wondered how he would ever fit _himself_ into it. Harry continued to prepare Draco until the blond was thrusting back against the three fingers that were inside of him. His hands were clutched tightly in the bedspread.

"Harry," Draco said. His voice was strained and husky. "Please." Harry nodded and removed his fingers. Draco whimpered at the loss, but it was soon replaced with something larger. Harry pushed Draco's legs back until his heels touched the backs of his thighs and began to press in.

His arms shook as he slowly sheathed himself inside of Draco, who was holding his breath, his silver eyes closed. Once his hips met Draco's, they both released a shaky breath. Warmth and tightness encompassed Harry's erection from every side, and he was having a hard time not coming on the spot.

"Are you okay?" Harry asked quietly. Draco's teeth were worrying his bottom lip, and his hands were still clenched in the blankets. He nodded.

"Just... move." Harry nodded again and slowly pulled back before thrusting in slowly. A moan fell from his lips. As he continued to thrust, what felt like a white-hot ball of heat began to build up near the base of his spine. Suddenly, Draco went still underneath of him. His silver eyes were wide, and his mouth had dropped open. Harry stopped moving.

"Did I hurt you?" He began to pull out, but Draco wrapped his legs around Harry's waist, which pushed him back in the length that he had pulled out.

"Do whatever it is you just did," Draco told him, reaching up to wrap his hands around Harry's biceps. Harry had no idea what he had done other than thrust, but he began to move again, and a loud cry erupted from Draco. His head was thrown back and he was biting his lip so hard he might go straight through it. He must have jostled Draco's prostate. He changed his angle slightly, and continued to thrust. Draco was clenching his arms so hard that he would have bruises later, but he didn't care. Draco's erection rubbed against Harry's abdomen, and moments later, Draco came with Harry's name on his lips, and pearly white liquid shot across his abdomen. The tightening of Draco's muscles sent Harry over the edge as well, and his vision went spotted for a moment before his arms gave out and he collapsed on top of Draco. He could hear the beating of his boyfriend's heart in his chest, and it was just as erratic as his own.

He rolled off of Draco and cast a _Scourgify_, removing the mess that coated both his and Draco's stomachs. Harry grasped Draco's hand and threaded his fingers between his boyfriend's before pulling him close. He kissed Draco's lips softly.

Draco nestled his head underneath Harry's chin and breathed in the smell of sandalwood, cinnamon, and sweat. He wanted to say something, anything, but he didn't know what to say. The one thing that continued to come to mind... he didn't know if he could say it. He had never said it to anyone but his own mother.

He knew that he loved Harry. He knew it with every fiber of his being... he just didn't know if he could say it yet. He was terrified of messing up everything that he had managed to create over the past year.

Draco willed his mind to shut up before he said something he might regret and he allowed himself to drift off into a comfortable sleep. School ended for the year tomorrow, and he wanted to spend as much time with Harry as possible.

ϟϟϟ

The next day, Draco and Harry managed to find an empty compartment near the front of the train, and they spent the entire ride curled up in each other's arms, not saying much of anything. Draco wasn't looking forward to the holidays like he usually was. His father was in Azkaban, his mother's sister was on the loose, and worst of all, he would be away from Harry until September.

When they pulled into King's Cross Station, Harry pulled Draco closer. "Promise you'll write?" Draco nodded and kissed Harry on the lips before grabbing his trunk and leaving the compartment. Harry sat alone until Ron and Hermione came to find him.

* * *

><p><em>And that ends the first part of the story. I'm not making a new one-it's all going to stay in here, but yes, there's the first part of the story. I'm going to put up a poll on my profile, asking if you guys want me to write Draco's summer. And thank you guys so much for all of the reviews, favorites, and story alerts. I know I don't respond to many of them because I have no idea what to say, but I appreciate every single one I get.<em>


	21. Chapter 21

_I'm sorry it's been so long. I've had some emotional and physical health problems over the past week and a half or so. I also apologize for the shortness of this chapter. You guys deserve longer, but I like the length. I'll try to update sooner, I promise! I'm having some trouble with writer's block.  
><em>

_Chapter Twenty One_

Harry's summer had mostly consisted of him, in his room, staring at the popcorn ceiling, wondering whether he was going to get an owl from Draco or not that day. He had written Draco on the second day of the holidays, and had gotten a reply almost immediately. He had written back a few days later, but the reply he had gotten was the last letter he had received, other than the short birthday note that had been on his desk when he had woken up on July 31. The only other post he had received was from Ron, Hermione, and Dumbledore. He was generally very happy to get post, considering who his other company was, but all he wanted to do was hear from his boyfriend.

Had something happened to Draco? Had Harry himself done or said something to upset him so much that he refused to write him at all?

The time that Harry spent with the Weasleys before heading back to the school was spent in a daze. He was quiet and distracted, looking forward to the year more than usual, if only just to see Draco and make sure that everything was all right.

During the trip to Diagon Alley to collect everyone's school books and new robes, Harry had glimpsed Draco and his mother, Narcissa. Draco had seemed different – a bit like he was trying to put up a façade for everyone around him. He looked extremely tense, and he looked like he had lost a bit of weight. His normally perfect skin was slightly broken out and a bit waxy, as if he hadn't seen the sun at all over the few months of break. He hadn't noticed Harry at all, and had continued to walk with his mother.

They were finally at school now, and the Welcoming Feast was just beginning, as the Sorting had finished. Draco was staring into his golden plate with a look of extreme disdain. Harry wanted to walk over to him and wrap him in his arms, but that was an extremely gauche action to perform in the middle of the Great Hall.

After staring at Draco for at least ten minutes, the blond finally looked up. When his grey eyes met Harry's green, he seemed to flinch. Harry bit his lip slightly, a habit that he hadn't managed to get rid of when it came to worry, and cocked his head to the left slightly in question. Draco did nothing but look away and pull the sleeves of his Slytherin robe further down over the tips of his fingers.

"Is there something wrong with Draco?" Hermione asked, passing Harry the jacket potatoes. He loaded some on his plate without really paying attention, and Hermione stopped him from dropping one into his goblet. "Is there something wrong with _you_?"

Harry quirked a small smile. "I don't know about him, but something's probably wrong with me, yes." Hermione frowned as his attempt at humor was lost on her. She worried so much that she was going to go prematurely grey.

"Really, though, Harry. You've been extremely quiet for a week, and you've been very distracted. What's wrong?" Harry sighed and rubbed his cheek.

"Just worried about Draco, that's all," he said, finally giving in. Hermione would pester him until he told her what was on his mind, so it was always best to just tell her in the beginning and save yourself the migraine.

"What's wrong with the ferret?" Ron asked, finally coming up for air from his plate of chicken and rice. Harry and Hermione both frowned at him. "What?"

"Could you not call him names?" Harry requested, sighing into his ice water. Ron had become a bit more supportive over the summer, and after… After Sirius. Harry winced internally at the thought of his godfather, but he pushed past it. He couldn't think about that right now.

"Sorry," Ron mumbled, pushing a forkful of rice into his mouth. "But what's wrong with him?"

"I don't know," Harry acquiesced, frowning. He hated not knowing. "He stopped writing me over the summer, and… well, that's just odd."

"I don't know, Harry," Hermione began, saving her spoon. "He could have gone on vacation or something and been out of reach of post, you know. Some places don't have post offices, and people don't always bring owls along with them on trips." Harry sighed. Of course she had to present the logic.

"I've thought of that, Hermione, I really have." She quirked an eyebrow.

"Have you really?"

"Yes!"

"If you say so," she said, and returned to her beef stew. Harry huffed and stabbed his potato with vigor until it was firmly dead.

When the Hall was dismissed for bed, Harry tried to catch Draco's eye again, but to no avail. Harry made it his mission to talk to him tomorrow at some point, if not during class, after.


	22. Chapter 22

_Chapter 22_

So far, Harry's first day as a sixth year had gone... well, not very good, to say the least. He had wound up with a detention during his first actual class of the day, with Snape of all people. He was going to wind up missing it because of his lesson with Dumbledore, but he knew that he would have to make it up at some point. Severus Snape would not let a detention go even if the world was ending. He then had an insane essay to work on over non-verbal spell use, and by the time two free periods and lunch had passed, Harry still hadn't finished.

Oddly enough, he was looking forward to potions somewhat, now that he knew he wasn't going to have to deal with Snape in the dungeons. He would also be in close contact with Draco for the first time that day. He would be able to talk to Draco after class, if he was lucky.

When Ron, Harry, and Hermione reached the dungeon, they saw that a small amount of people had managed to make it in for N.E.W.T level potions, including Blaise Zabini, Draco, two other Slytherins, four Ravenclaws, and a Hufflepuff. Harry and Draco stared at each other for a moment, and said nothing. Just as Harry was about to say hello, Slughorn's stomach appeared in the doorway, just before the man himself. He ushered everyone into the room where they took seats at stations that already had potions at them. The potion on his table had a slight mother-of-pearl sheen, and had smoke curling off of it in swirled patterns. It smelled absolutely divine, like treacle tart, the woodsy smell of a broomstick handle, and something that was distinctly _Draco_. Harry leaned closer to the cauldron, trying to get more of the scent, and Hermione pushed him back.

"That's Amortentia, Harry. Be careful." Even Harry knew what Amortentia was—The most powerful love potion in the world, rumored to smell different to each person according to what attracts them. Harry blushed slightly, realizing that his last two scents were linked to his boyfriend.

They had had every potion explained to them except for the one on Slughorn's desk, which Ernie MacMillian finally asked about. Slughorn smiled and bounced slightly on the balls of his feet. The potion was the color of molten gold, and drops were bouncing around like tiny fish.

"That, my boy, is Felix Felicis." Hermione covered her mouth to stifle a gasp. "Otherwise known as Liquid Luck." Harry noticed that out of the corner of his eye, Draco had gone stock still. "With a dose of Felix Felicis, all of your endeavors shall succeed until the potion wears off." Slughorn waved his hand toward the small cauldron. "A tiny vial of this potion will be the prize for whoever brews the best potion today. We are making the Draught of Living Death."

Harry groaned internally. Difficult potions weren't his forté. Hell, easy potions weren't his forté. As Slughorn signaled for them to begin, he flipped open his book from the supply cupboard, only to find it had been scribbled all over. Well, just fucking great, then. Whoever had previously owned the book had crossed out directions and written in their own.

Harry, on a whim, decided to follow them knowing that it couldn't become any worse than what he would have made on his own, and he produced the best Draught, winning the Felix Felicis. He glanced over at Draco, who was glaring at his tabletop. Harry frowned. He really, really needed to talk to him.

When class ended, Harry made his way out of the room as fast as possible to catch Draco, who had been one of the first people out of the dungeon classroom. He caught Draco by the sleeve, and Draco jumped, as if he had been caught doing something he shouldn't have.

"Draco," Harry said quietly, beginning to get worried, "are you all right?" Draco turned to Harry and smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes.

"I'm fine, Harry. How are you?"

"I'm okay," he replied, beginning to walk slowly next to Draco. "I missed you." Draco looked down at his feet, and his fringe covered his eyes.

"I missed you too, Harry," said Draco quietly, and Harry squeezed his hand. Draco squeezed back.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Harry asked again. Draco nodded and smiled at Harry again. It looked strained. Up close, Harry could see that there were deep purple bruises underneath Draco's eyes, as if he hadn't had a good night's sleep in a long time. His skin looked waxy, and his entire demeanor had changed.

"I've just had a few off days, that's all," Draco said, hoping to assure Harry. "I've had a migraine for a while." That wasn't a complete lie. He had been having off days and migraines since the first day of summer holidays. Harry frowned.

"I'm here if you need me, though, you know," Harry told him, stopping their ascent into the Entrance Hall. He stepped in front of Draco, allowing the other students that were heading the same place to file past them. Draco nodded, feeling his throat constrict slightly. Harry kissed him softly on the lips before releasing his hand. "I'll see you at dinner." Draco nodded again and Harry headed up the stairs.

Draco could feel his stomach beginning to churn. He quickly turned around and bolted down the corridor until he found the boy's lavatory, where he promptly lost what little lunch he had eaten. He flushed the loo and cast a quick teeth-cleaning charm before rinsing his mouth out with water.

He hated lying to Harry, absolutely _hated_ it. He hated the fact that he knew what he was, and Harry didn't. Harry thought he was... a good person. Draco cringed. Good person. Yeah, that ship has sailed.

Draco rubbed at his left forearm without thinking about it. He hated this. All of this.


	23. Chapter 23

_Chapter Twenty Three_

Draco woke with a loud shout, sitting up stock still underneath his sweat-soaked, Slytherin-green sheets. He was thankful that he had thought to put up a strong silencing charm before falling asleep. Last night, he had woke Blaise and Theo with his shouting. Vince and Greg could sleep through a bloody earthquake, and neither of them had moved an inch during the night.

He pushed the heels of his palms against his eyes until purple, green, and orange starbursts erupted against the backs of his eyelids. He had dreamed of Bellatrix and the Dark Lord again, for what had to be the fiftieth night in a row. He had watched Voldemort torture his mother until she begged for mercy before killing her in cold blood before the dream morphed into his horrific lessons with his aunt. The dream was a recurring one, and because he was plagued by it every single tie he fell into unawareness, he no longer retched every time he woke from the dream. The rolling nausea hadn't dispersed yet, nor had the overwhelming sense of helplessness that only abated somewhat during the day.

As Draco sat there, fighting the urge to be sick all over his covers, his thoughts drifted to Harry. For the past week, he had been avoiding Harry and his prying questions about Draco's health and well being. He knew that Harry was upset by this, but Draco couldn't bring himself to seek out his Gryffindor boyfriend. He was terrified that Harry would seek physical contact, which warranted the removal of clothing.

Draco rolled up his thermal shirt and looked down at the dark splotched that marred his usually perfect skin. The snake of his Dark Mark was currently asleep, his head buried in the coil of its tail. The lines of ink were raised against his skin, and it bothered him. He hadn't wanted to take the Mark, not anymore. He knew that he would die doing his duties to the Dark Lord, he just didn't know when. Voldemort probably had a plan to punish Draco severely for the smallest indiscretion as punishment for Lucius' mistake during the Department of Mysteries.

The saddest part was that Draco had accepted his fate. The only reason he hadn't given up and let his Aunt kill him herself was because he needed to keep his mother alive. He couldn't let his mother be killed by the Dark Lord, or the Death Eaters. And Harry… He didn't know what to do about Harry. He didn't want him to know what he had become, even if he had gone ahead and let himself be Marked to save his mother. The things he had already done… He shivered. There were more things he would probably have to do as well, and he didn't want to think about that. He was not proud of what he was.

He had wanted to be a Death Eater when he was younger, when he was a stupid, naive child. His father would come back from Death Eater meetings, dressed in impeccable robes and his hand-painted mask and boast about glorious dinner parties and luxury. What lies they were. He had had no idea that he would have to hurt people, possibly kill them… Draco sighed, and he wasn't pleased to note that it came out sounding very much like a sob. He knew that he was going to lose Harry the moment that he caught sight of the snake on his arm. He honestly didn't blame him. Who would want to be with someone who serves the man who murdered your parents?

He needed to spend time with Harry before all hell broke lose, and he knew that it would, if not now, later. He had to spend time with Harry while he still could, despite the consequences. He was now quite the practiced Occlumens, thanks to his Aunt Bellatrix. He flinched as he thought about the lessons.

Shaking his head, Draco pushed the thoughts of his horrid aunt out of his mind. He was going to spend time with Harry, Dark Lord be damned.

* * *

><p>Harry rolled over in his bed and punched his pillow for the umpteenth time. He was tired and he wanted to sleep, for Merlin's sake. It was at least four in the morning, and he had potions first thing in the morning. Even with the Half-Blood Prince's book, he couldn't afford to be half asleep while mixing potentially volatile ingredients together in the presence of others. He was also going to be in close proximity with Draco, and that was also not the best thing for him while he was mixing a potion, either.<p>

Draco hadn't spoken to Harry at all, except for the first day of classes when Harry had practically jumped him in the hallway. Harry was beginning to think that he had done something to personally offend Draco, but he had no idea what he could have done, considering that the last time they had spoken before summer, they had… Harry blushed at the thought, and his body grew increasingly warmer. He groaned and rolled over again. At this rate, he wasn't going to get any sleep at all, and he was probably going to blow up the entire dungeon.

Swearing, he sat up and kicked off his blankets, which had managed to tangle themselves around his legs like a spider's web. He crawled out of bed and nearly yelped at the cold floor beneath his feet. Even in the middle of September, the floors of the castle were cold. Harry padded into the bathroom and turned on one of the showers before stripping down and hopping in. Since he was awake, he might as well make the most of it.

Harry stepped out of the shower and rubbed his hair with his plush towel. He would spell it dry and save time but it caused his hair to puff out much like Hermione's, and his hair was already wild enough as it was. After drying his skin and hair, Harry pulled on his uniform. He grabbed his bag and headed down to the common room to ad finishing touches to his Charms Essay, determinedly pushing Draco out of his mind.

His plan of distraction only worked for thirty minutes until Draco was back in his head. He couldn't keep the elusive, blond-haired git out of his mind for longer than an hour at a time. He missed Draco. He missed his smile, his hands, his smell, and _oh, God,_ his lips. He hadn't even kissed Draco since the first day of school, and that was more than a week ago. To be quite honest, Harry was going through Draco withdrawal.

During his pondering, people had begun to filter down the stairs, and he was soon joined by Ron and Hermione, who were bickering over some assignment for Transfiguration. Harry followed them out of the portrait hole and down the seven flights of stairs that led to the Entrance Hall. Breakfast was boring. Harry ate mechanically, not really noticing what he was putting in his mouth. The Trio finished breakfast and headed down into the dungeons.

Once inside the potions room, Harry settled in next to Ron, Hermione, and Ernie Macmillian. After Slughorn set them to work making a Befuddlement Draught, Harry headed into the supply cupboard to gather his and Ron's ingredients. When he emerged, arms laden with items, he realized that Draco was watching him intently. His breath caught in his chest and he nearly dropped all of his ingredients all over the floor. A smile quirked at Draco's lips over Harry's fumble, and Harry blushed before hurrying back to his cauldron.

When Harry dumped the items on the worktable, Ron asked,

"You okay? You nearly dumped everything on the floor a moment ago." Harry blushed again.

"It's nothing," stammered Harry, opening his book to the directions and beginning to chop his lovage. He nearly lost the tip of his index and middle fingers twice, for he could feel Draco's eyes on him nearly the entire time, and he couldn't concentrate. Twice, Ron stopped him from blowing up the cauldron. He _knew_ that he was going to fuck up somehow today. His lack of sleep wasn't helping _at all_.

When the bell rang, Harry released a breath that he hadn't realized he had been holding, and allowed Ron to scoop their perfect potion into a vial, cork it, and take it up to Slughorn's desk. Harry was afraid that he would either spill it, drop it, or send it sailing across the room and kill someone with it. Ron patted him on the shoulder as he packed his bag. "The git is staring at you." Harry elbowed Ron in the stomach, and Ron coughed.

"I know," he mumbled, hoisting his bag over his shoulder and heading out the door. He didn't get very far before a familiar voice was calling his name from behind him. Harry turned to see Draco jogging up to him, his Italian leather bag beating against his hip. His normally perfect hair hung loose around his face, and Harry had the strong urge to run his fingers through it. Draco smiled, grabbed Harry's hand, and pulled him out of the way of the traffic that was heading up into the Entrance Hall. Harry's hand was tingling as if he had lost circulation. Draco pulled him close.

"I'm sorry that I've been ignoring you," he said quietly, still holding Harry's hand. Harry licked his lips, which had suddenly gone bone dry, along with his mouth.

"Why have you?" he asked. "Did I do something? Because if I did, I-" Draco kissed him, his lips barely brushing against Harry's. Tingles surged throughout Harry's entire body, and it felt as if his heart had moved location into his throat.

"You didn't do anything," assured Draco. "It was a personal issue, but it's resolved now." Harry was curious to know what the problem had been, but he knew that if he pushed the issue, he might wind up not speaking to Draco for another week. If he wanted to talk about it, he would do it on his own time.


	24. Chapter 24

_Chapter Twenty Four_

Harry sprawled across Draco's lap, relishing in the wonderful feeling of his boyfriend. They were currently lounging underneath the old oak tree on the bank sof the Black Lake. They had been studying, Draco working on his Ancient Runes, Harry on his Transfiguration. Both of them had decided that they needed a break and they had curled up underneath the tree. Draco was laying on his back, and Harry was using him for a pillow while Draco carded his fingers through Harry's unruly black hair. "I see that you finally got your hair trimmed," Draco pointed out, twirling a piece of Harry's hair between his long, white fingers. "I like it better this way. I can see your face now." Harry smiled against Draco's stomach.

"I don't like it as much," he admitted. "I can't hide with it anymore." Draco chuckled, and Harry could feel it reverberate throughout the blond's chest.

"That's exactly why I like it now; because you can't hide. I don't want you to hide, Harry." Harry propped his chin up on Draco's stomach and looked up at the other boy, who continued to play with his hair. Draco watched him silently for a moment. "What? Is there something in my teeth?" He rubbed one finger across perfectly white teeth. Harry rolled his eyes. Draco and his vanity were something that one had to get used to. Harry shook his head, and Draco stopped rubbing at his incisors. "Then what is it?"

Harry began to worry his bottom lip between his teeth, and Draco reached down to pull his lip from between them. He hated when Harry chewed on his lip. "You just make me so happy," whispered Harry before burying his face in Draco's shirt, hoping to hide the blush that he knew would be adoring his cheeks. He wasn't someone who generally gave heartfelt admissions at all hours of the day, and when he did say something that included a lot of feeling, he generally wound up incredibly embarrassed about the entire thing.  
>Draco stroked the side of his strong jaw with one finger, hoping to coax him out of smothering himself in Draco's shirt. "What's so bad about that?" Draco's voice had changed tone; it sounded strained, as if he were talking about something particularly difficult. Harry removed his face from Draco's clothing and looked into Draco's eyes, which had become slightly glossy. Harry chewed on the inside of his cheek.<p>

The real reason that the happiness Draco gave him worried him was because Harry knew that it couldn't last, not forever, not with who Draco's father was, who he worked for, and what had to happen. Harry also had a great habit of losing the people who meant the most to him, and Draco was currently the highest on that list, and that meant that he would most likely be taken away as quick as possible.

"There's nothing wrong with that," lied Harry, looking away from Draco's prying eyes. "I'm just being an emotional Hufflepuff right now." Draco laughed shortly and wrapped his arms tightly around Harry. He buried his face against Draco's chest again and allowed himself to enjoy the comfort of something that would be taken away eventually.

* * *

><p>The next time that Harry saw Draco, he was visibly shaken up, and clammy, as if he'd just retched. He was sitting up in the top of the Astronomy Tower, long after curfew, and Harry had gone to find him after he had located his dot upon the Marauder's Map. Draco had jumped at least a foot in the air when Harry entered the top of the tower, and he drew his wand lightning quick. Harry removed the cloak and held his hands up.<p>

"It's only me, Draco." Draco released a shaky breath and lowered his wand to his side before stashing it inside of his cloak. He buried his face in his hands and pulled sharply on his blond hair, as if he was trying to sharpen his mind with the pain. "Are you all right?" Harry stepped closer.

"Don't," Draco said quietly, but his voice was like steel. "Just don't." Harry swallowed the lump in his throat and backed off until his back hit one of the walls of the tower, and he slid down until his bum hit the floor. He watched Draco for several minutes. His breathing was labored, as if he had just run a great distance and couldn't catch his breath. His skin was sweaty and pale, and his hands were visibly shaking. Harry wanted to pull him close and offer him comfort, but Draco apparently didn't want that at the moment.

After fifteen minutes of silence, Harry spoke again. "Draco," he said quietly, hoping to not upset him again. "What happened?" Draco bit his lip hard enough to draw blood and willed the tears that were threatening to burst forth backwards. He wanted to tell Harry what had happened tonight, but he couldn't get his vocal chords to work. He wanted to tell him that he had been to his Death Eater meeting when his mark had burned with white-hot pain after dinner. He wanted to tell him that he had lied to the Dark Lord and told him that his plan to kill Dumbledore was going swimmingly, but Voldemort had seen right through his lies, despite his Occlusion. He wanted to tell him that, after the Dark Lord had discovered his failures, he had set to _Crucioing_ him on and off for an hour until he thought that he would burst. Severus had given him a vial of pain potion, but it didn't help as much as he had hoped. His muscles were still on fire, and his skin was sensitive as hell to the touch. Just wearing his clothes made him want to scream. If Harry were to touch him, he'd probably scream at the top of his lungs, and Harry would know what had happened to him immediately.

"I'm fine," Draco gritted out between his gnashed teeth. Even speaking hurt. He had never been in so much pain in his life, and he had been under the Cruciatus curse many times before, but never to this extent. His Aunt Bellatrix was very privy to the Cruciatus curse, as the fates of Frank and Alice Longbottom showed. Bellatrix Lestrange was a ruthless woman who liked to play with her food before she ate it. She liked to make it feel pain and beg for mercy before she silenced it forever. It was absolutely sickening. She had showed Draco the many ways she liked to cavort with her captives before finishing them off. She had decided to use Draco as target practice before releasing him on the small animals that frolicked around the Manor grounds.

"No, you're not," said Harry. Draco could hear the intense worry that was in his voice, and he wanted to pitch himself off of the Astronomy Tower for causing Harry to be so upset. He hated it when Harry wasn't happy, especially when he was the main cause for it.

Draco wanted to punch something. Why, out of all possible times, did Harry have to become observant now? The idiot was usually the most unobservant person he probably knew, excluding Greg and Vince, who couldn't find the way out of a paper bag. Draco shook his head, which caused the migraine he had to protest loudly. "I'm fine, Harry. Just leave it, alright? You can't do anything to fix it."

"You don't know that!" protested Harry, his voice rising. Draco winced at the loud noise, and Harry lowered his voice. "I could get Madame Pomfrey, or… I could even get Snape. You look like you need to lie down, like you're about to pass out or be sick everywhere." Draco stiffened.

"No. Don't get Madame Pomfrey." Severus obviously knew what was wrong with him, as he had already given him a potion for the pain. He had told Draco that it was all he could do for him, and that he should go straight to bed. Draco, being Draco, hadn't listen to all and had trudged his way up eight flights of stairs to the Astronomy Tower. He couldn't deal with Blaise and Theo when he got into his dormitory. They were sure to ask questions, and he was not in a question type of mood.

"Why not, Draco?" demanded Harry. He was starting to sound agitated, and Draco hoped that his agitation might drive him to leave Draco alone. When - if - he told Harry that he was now a Death Eater, he didn't want it to be right after he had been tortured mercilessly and he felt like he was going to lose consciousness at any given moment.

"_Because_," Draco ground out, finally looking up at Harry, who had his strong jaw firmly set in a look that clearly said 'You're lying to me and I'm going to figure out why'. Draco's silver eyes flashed with anger. "I said _I'm fine_."

"And I said _you're not_," Harry shot back, his green eyes narrowed into an angry glare. Draco wanted to scream his frustration at the top of his lungs, but that would only notify someone that two students were out of bed well past curfew, and Draco definitely wasn't up to the task of dealing with Filch or McGonagall at the moment. Or ever.

"What the bloody hell do you know?" asked Draco, his lips pursed into a fine line. He could feel the angry flush in his cheeks, and he was grateful for at least some color, even if it was because he was pissed off. "I think I know how I feel better than you do, Potter." Harry looked like he had been punched in the gut with the use of his surname, and Draco immediately wished that he could take it back, but he couldn't.

"When you're done being a dick, let me know,_ Malfoy_," said Harry before standing up, grabbing his Invisibility Cloak, and departing the room. Once Draco could no longer hear his footsteps on the many stairs that led up to the tower, he covered his mouth with the arm of his cloak and screamed.


	25. Chapter 25

_By the way, I don't have internet right now. It's supposed to get fixed tomorrow (I'm at the library), and if it doesn't, well, hang in there guys. Thank you for all of your lovely reviews, by the way!  
><em>

_Chapter Twenty Five_

Harry watched the dot labeled as_ Draco Malfoy_ make the long trek down from the Astronomy tower to the Slytherin dormitories. The walk took Draco at least an hour, if not more. It generally took someone twenty five minutes to make that walk. Something was definitely wrong with Draco, and he refused to tell Harry. He watched the dot make his way from the lavatory and onto his bed, and moments later, another dot moved next to him and then onto the bed. It was labeled_ Blaise Zabini_.

Anger and jealousy coursed through Harry's veins like fire. Why was Blaise Zabini in his boyfriend's bed? Why was Draco letting Blaise get close to him when he refused to let Harry anywhere near him at all? He was beyond confused and he was also extremely hurt. He had refused to let Harry even touch him, yet Zabini was in fucking bed with him. Harry angrily wiped the map clean and shoved it in his bedside drawer.

He shoved the angry thoughts out of his head and pummeled his pillows until they were a suitable shape for humans and he laid down on top of the sheets. It was too warm for him to cover up with the down comforter, and his anger had caused his body to heat up exponentially. He frowned into the darkness, listening to his four other roommates snore. Neville grunted in his sleep right as Ron snored loudly. Harry wanted to hex the lot of him because he and Dean were the only out of the five that could sleep quietly. Harry tugged his curtains closed. It helped to muffle the sounds of his noisy mates a bit, and he rolled over onto his back.

Staring up at his deep red canopy was doing nothing for his whirling thoughts whatsoever. He knew that he couldn't get up and wander around the castle. It was almost three in the morning, and if he were to be caught, he would probably face a week's worth of detentions, despite the fact that he was The Chosen One. Harry pulled out his wand and began to draw lazy shapes in the air, leaving trails of light behind the tip of holly wood as he went. He needed a distraction, and magic was always there to offer itself. It was the one constant Harry had had in his life since his eleventh birthday, and he was eternally grateful for that.

Eventually, he must have managed to drift off to sleep, because he woke when Ron tripped over one of his shoes and slammed into the bathroom door. If he hadn't woke up when Ron swore loudly, he would have to the rest of the room's raucous laughter. Harry chuckled a little before the memory of what happened the previous night settled back in his mind and quelled his laughter. He removed his glasses and rubbed the dent in his nose that his glasses had caused. He removed his glasses before bed for a reason.  
>After Ron finished swearing so much that McGonagall probably would have expelled him for dishonoring the school, he leaned against one of Harry's poster frames, rubbing the bump that was raising on his head. "What's wrong with you, Mate? You look a bit worse for wear, if you don't mind me saying." Harry quirked his mouth slightly, as if to say "okay".<p>

"Really, though, what's up?" asked Ron. "You haven't been this upset since the hols. Did something happen between you and... Malfoy?" Ron still struggled to say Draco's name without any hint of malice, but he was doing better than he had been previously. Harry looked away from his friend and pushed his glasses back onto his nose, throwing everything into focus once more. He felt the bed shift with Ron's weight as he sat down near the foot. "Do you want me to get Hermione?"

Harry shook his head. He didn't need Hermione to worry about him again. She had finally stopped trying to mother him at every turn, and he was grateful. Of course he probably needed to talk about it, considering how upset he was about the whole ordeal, but he didn't want to start unloading on people again. He had done that all last year and he wanted to put a stop to that. He hated weighing people down with his problems, and Hermione was pretty much his go-to-person since Sirius had died.

His throat constricted at the thought of Sirius. He had been pushing the thoughts of his godfather down all summer. He knew that they would surface eventually, and he would deal with them when it happened. He was one of the people who locked up everything inside of his head until the floodgates would burst and everything would go straight to shit, but he had to deal with it when it happened. He had done the same with Cedric, and it hadn't gone over well, obviously. He had gotten Draco out of the entire ordeal, at least.

"You sure?" asked Ron, beginning to get up from Harry's bed. Harry nodded, and Ron moved to get dressed. They were the last ones in the dormitory, and breakfast was no doubt starting any minute now. Ron would set the entire dorm on fire if he missed breakfast, and Harry rather liked his possessions unburnt. He didn't want to go to breakfast, though. He was in no mood whatsoever to see Draco, let alone _Blaise_. The thought of the dark-skinned boy made his stomach churn.

Harry got out of bed and dressed quickly after brushing his teeth and hair. At the moment, he could really care less about his appearance at the moment, but he knew that if he didn't try at all, Hermione would be onto his emotional state like a fly on honey.

Once in the common room, Hermione greeted the two boys with a smile on her face, but when she saw Harry, the smile faded a bit. She could tell that something was wrong. She always could. Harry tried to send a convincing smile her way, but she frowned even harder. She was going to wind up with premature frown lines. He mouthed, "I'm fine" and she shook her head. He sighed and they headed to breakfast.

* * *

><p>"Draco, will you please stop freaking out? He will come to breakfast, you know. He didn't disappear from the castle grounds when he left you last night," Blaise said, stirring his tea with a spoon. "You need to calm down, alright?"<p>

Draco exhaled hard and dropped his head into his hands. "Could you not say the words _left you_ when they're paired with Harry? You're making me feel worse than I already do, okay?" He had been a complete and total arsehole last night to Harry, and he was feeling the after affects of it and the _Cruciatus_ this morning. He had hardly slept at all last night, instead spending half of the night talking with Blaise. Over the summer, they had grown quite close compared to how their friendship had been the year before. Blaise knew that Draco was a Death Eater, and he didn't judge him in the least. Blaise had met Bellatrix himself and he understood that you could not say no to that woman and keep your life.

When Harry shuffled into the Great Hall behind Ginger and Granger, Draco stopped picking at his onion bagel and sat stock-still. He was waiting for something, _anything_, that would signify that Harry was not completely and totally pissed at Draco. No such signal came, and Draco closed his eyes. Blaise rubbed his back lightly, knowing that Draco's skin was still extremely sensitive after being held underneath the _Cruciatus_ curse for so long the night before. Harry glanced over and Draco could see even from the distance they were at that Harry's eyes had hardened at the sight of Blaise touching Draco in such a caring manner, especially when Draco hadn't allowed Harry anywhere near him last night.

"Blaise, I think something's wrong," Draco said quietly, and Blaise leaned closer, his hand still on Draco's back. Draco wanted to shake it off, but the movement would cause his muscles to scream in protest, and he would rather not cry out in pain in the midst of everyone's breakfast.

"What is it?" Blaise asked, stealing a lemon poppyseed muffin from the center plate and ripping chunks out of it, finally removing his hand from Draco.

"I think Harry... he's got an idea that... something is going on between us," Draco whispered, his voice slightly pained. Would Harry honestly think that he would do that, that he would cheat on him? He thought that he had made it quite clear that he would never intentionally hurt Harry. Blaise coughed on his muffin.

"I think that ship sailed a _long_ time ago, Draco," he said, quirking a dark eyebrow. Draco blushed and scowled.

"That is not the point, Blaise!" he whisper-shouted. "The point is that my bloody idiot boyfriend thinks that I'm cheating on him with _you_."

"What's wrong with me?" Blaise asked, offended, muffin crumbs on his chin. Draco let his head fall against the oak table with a loud _thump_.

"Everything is wrong with you, Blaise. _Ev-ry-thing_." Blaise muttered something unintelligible and Draco ignored him. He really needed to talk to Harry before this entire thing blew completely out of proportion, and it looked like it was well on its way there. He had made the promise to himself that he would spend as much time with Harry as he possibly could before the Dark Lord killed him, and he was going to keep that promise, not just to make himself happy, but to make Harry happy.


	26. Chapter 26

_Chapter Twenty-Five_

Over the next two days, Draco spent every class he had with the Gryffindors trying to catch Harry's eye to no avail. The black-haired boy was still ignoring him adamantly, and it hurt Draco immensely to have Harry do so. He had absolutely no idea where Harry had gotten the idea that he and Blaise were _together_, for Merlin's sake, because it was so obscenely wrong that it almost hurt Draco's head. The Blaise and Draco Ship had sailed a _long, long_ time ago, and it was never coming back.

Draco couldn't manage to catch Harry after classes, either. Harry was one fast little bugger when he wanted to be, and he was almost always the very first person out of the classroom, and by the time Draco made his way into the crowded corridor, Harry had disappeared into the sea of Hogwarts students. By the end of two days, Draco was ready to bash his head against the wall until he blacked out so that he didn't have to think about it anymore.

After the last class of the day, Draco watched Harry disappear into a sea of black, yellow, green, blue, and red. He sighed heavily and left the Potions classroom. Once he was safely inside of the Slytherin common room, he made his way to the boy's dorm and lie down on his bed, his arm draped across his face to block out the light from the lamps that adorned the walls. He nearly jumped out of his skin when the foot of the bed dipped down with someone's weight.

"Draco, moping isn't your color," Blaise said, patting Draco's shins. Draco suppressed the urge to kick his friend in the nose and peered at the black boy from underneath his arm.

"Blaise, what do you want?" he asked, exasperated. He was not in the mood to deal with Blaise's _Blaise_-ness today, or really any other day for that matter. "I'm tired."

"I want you to stop moping like some stupid Hufflepuff and go talk to Potter." Draco rolled his eyes. Blaise made it sound like it was so easy, like he could just waltz up to Harry and be like,

_"Oh, hi, Harry! I heard you think I'm cheating on you! Well, that's not true, and I think you should stop being an arsehole and talk to me!"_

Yeah. Right.

"It's like you think I haven't tried to talk to him at all in the past few days," Draco muttered, covering his eyes again. His head was beginning to hurt, and the harsh green light from the lamps was making it worse. "If you haven't noticed, I've tried to talk to him every single time that I've been near him. He's flighty."

Blaise snorted. "That's why you jump him."

"You honestly want me to _jump_ _Harry Potter_? I'll get my arse fried!" Boyfriend or not, attacking Harry, whether it be out of love or hate would probably get him killed in a matter of moments.

"Draco, stop being a pansy and go talk to your sodding boyfriend before I do it for you," threatened Blaise. Draco sat up so fast that the room went dark for a moment. His stomach lurched, and for a moment, he thought he might be sick.

"You wouldn't," he said once the room came back into view. Blaise was smirking triumphantly. "You would."

Fifteen minutes later, Draco was lurking in an alcove near the Gryffindor common room, waiting for Harry to emerge for dinner. Despite everything that was going on, Harry was still going to meals, which pleased Draco to no end. He didn't want Harry to stop eating again. Sure, he wasn't eating as much, but he was still going to meals and picking at his food.

After ten minutes of waiting and several leg cramps later, the portrait of the Fat Lady opened, and Granger, the Weasel, and Harry clambered out, along with several other Gryffindorks. The other red-clad students trooped ahead, leaving the trio behind. Harry was moving slowly.

"Harry, are you alright? You've been really upset today," Hermione said, placing a hand on Harry's shoulder. She was almost taller than he was. Weasley was standing off to the side, looking uncomfortable. "What's going on?" Harry shook off her hand.

"Nothing is going on, Hermione, and nothing is wrong." Hermione opened her mouth to protest, but Harry beat her to it. "Go on ahead. I'll catch up with you, okay?" Granger nodded and took Weasley by the arm. The began to head down the stairs.

Draco seized his chance and slipped out of the shadows. Harry was still facing away from him, and he managed to get at least five feet away from him before Harry turned around, startled. His eyes went shuttered immediately when he saw Draco. He began to walk away, but Draco grabbed his sleeve.

"Harry, wait. Don't leave," Draco pleaded, hanging onto Harry's arm.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" The use of his surname was like a slap in the face to Draco. He steeled his nerves as to not show his upset, but he didn't release Harry's sleeve.

"Can we talk? Please?" Draco never said please. _Ever_. Harry hesitated for several moments before jerking his clothing out of Draco's grasp. He turned back to the Fat Lady, who was watching them with rapt attention. "_Abstinence_," he said, and the Fat Lady swung open. Harry gave him a look before crawling into the portrait hole. It was extremely uncouth, but Draco followed as well, and once inside, his headache multiplied exponentially.

The room was so _fucking_ red. He hadn't even known that one room could _be_ so red. The only upside to the place was the fact that they had tons of squishy furniture that looked like it would be extremely comfortable. Harry cleared his throat, and Draco jumped.

"Are you coming, or what?" He had his foot on the first stair of what Draco presumed led to the dorms. Draco followed Harry silently, and they entered a circular tower room filled with five four-poster beds that looked the exact same as the Slytherin ones, sans the bed hangings. Harry sat down on one of the beds, and Draco sat down as well. Harry was at the headboard, and Draco was near the footboard.

"Talk," Harry said shortly, crossing his arms over his chest. Draco rubbed the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger. Why did Harry have to be so damn difficult?

"What is going on with you?" Draco asked. "You're acting like I offended you in some extreme way, and I don't know what I did."

Harry's mouth thinned. "Being in bed with Zabini is a little offensive to me, to say the least."

"How do you — on second thought, maybe I don't even want to know," Draco muttered. "Blaise comforted me for most of the night, Harry." He looked away, unable to stare into those green eyes any longer. "I was crying, alright? I needed someone."

"Yet you wouldn't let me anywhere near you," Harry pointed out, hurt evident in his voice. Draco pulled on his sleeves automatically. It was a nervous tick he had recently developed since taking the Mark.

"I didn't want you to get hurt," Draco whispered. That was mostly the truth—if Harry knew that Draco had been underneath the _Cruciatus_, then he would definitely ask questions, which would inevitably lead up to the revelation that Draco was now a Death Eater. That would definitely end in hurt for both of them.

"Well, I got hurt anyway," said Harry, his voice flat. "You not trusting me hurts, Draco." He wanted to shout at the top of his lungs that he _did_ trust Harry. He trusted him with his life. He just didn't want to see him get hurt, even though it was inevitable.

"I'm sorry," Draco said, looking back at Harry finally. They stared at each other for several long moments until Harry sighed deeply, and all of the tension seemed to run out of his body. He held out his hands.

"Come here." Draco crawled across the bed and settled into Harry's arms. He wanted to cry at how _right_ it felt. He had missed it so, so much. He still wasn't sure how he had survived the summer without Harry by his side.

* * *

><p>Harry held Draco close. His body practically ached with the wondrous feeling of having Draco close to him again. He had barely been able to function lately because he hadn't been with Draco. It made him feel almost pathetic that he couldn't concentrate without the blond around.<p>

He nuzzled the top of Draco's head with his nose, inhaling the scent of mint and rosemary. Three words popped into his head, and they nearly tumbled out before Harry managed to clamp his mouth shut. The last time he had said those three words, he had lost the person he had said them to not more than three weeks later. He was in love though. Totally and completely.


	27. Chapter 27

_I am horrible and I should be destroyed. I haven't updated in what, a week and a half? I've had some health problems and with that comes procrastination. But enjoy this chapter, which is... well, it's all sex. If you don't enjoy it, there is something fundamentally wrong with you.  
><em>

_Chapter Twenty Seven_

Draco sat up in the darkness that filled the Gryffindor dormitory. He and Harry had managed to fall asleep after their apologies to one another. Draco glanced outside the window of the tower. It was black as pitch outside. Draco absently scratched his arm and realized that his Mark was visible. Had Harry seen it? Panic settled in the bottom of Draco's stomach, but when he glanced over and noticed that Harry was still lying next to him, peaceful in sleep, he knew that he must not have.

Draco grabbed his Hawthorne wand off of the mahogany bedside table and pointed it at his arm. He quietly cast a glamour spell, and watched as the skin shimmered for a moment before the Dark Mark disappeared, leaving behind pale, unmarred flesh. It was an honestly beautiful sight to behold, for Draco had thought that he would never see it again.

"Draco?" Harry murmured groggily. "What are you doing?"

"Checking the time," he lied, and cast a Tempus Charm. The violent purple letters read 12:21 AM. Harry wrapped an arm around Draco's waist, and Draco placed his wand back on the table and lay next to Harry once more. Sometime in the night, Harry had shucked his jeans and Oxford shirt, leaving him clad in his cotton pants. He spooned Draco's back and traced lazy circles on his stomach.

"How long have you been awake?" Harry whispered, pressing his lips to Draco's neck. The blond shivered at the feeling of warm lips against his sensitive skin. Skilled Seeker's fingers began to unbutton his shirt.

"Only a few minutes," he confessed. He was embarrassed to note that his voice trembled when he spoke. Harry sucked on the patch of skin between his neck and shoulder, and he gasped. A broomstick-calloused hand slid lower and unclasped his button and fly, and his hips canted forward at the brushes of friction. In the midst of his declothing, Draco didn't notice that Harry was changing their positions until he was flat on his back with Harry straddling his legs. He could feel Harry's erection pressing against his thigh.

Draco wound his long fingers into the curls at the nape of Harry's neck and pulled him forward to crash against his lips. Harry exhaled heavily through his nose, and the warm air washed across Draco's face. He could feel Harry fumbling around and a moment later, he heard the curtains woosh closed. He had plum forgotten that he was in a room with four other boys.

Harry opened his mouth and allowed Draco to slip his tongue in after he nibbled on his plump bottom lip tenderly. Draco and Harry both groaned at the contact. It had been far too long since they had done this. When they pulled apart, Draco's head was spinning, and Harry caused it to nearly explode when he experimentally flicked his tongue across Draco's left nipple. He gasped loudly and his hips bucked again. Harry smirked and repeated the action once more. Draco whimpered and tried to shift underneath Harry's weight, but he couldn't move much.

Harry kissed his way down Draco's torso. He grabbed the sides of Draco's trousers and pulled on them. Draco lifted his hips, making it easier for Harry to slide off his slacks. Harry pulled them off of Draco's legs and tossed them on the end of the bed. Draco's erection was straining against his silk pants, and Harry pressed his mouth to it. Draco gasped again, scrabbling for purchase on the sheets with his hands. Harry slipped his fingers into the waistband and pulled them down, and Draco shivered.

Nervousness bubbled up in Harry as he stared at Draco's erection, flushed pink with blood. He had never given head before, and he was slightly worried that he would be pants at it. Taking a leap of faith, he wrapped his hand around the base and moved it up and down slowly. Draco bucked against his hand, and Harry took that as a sign to continue. Tentatively, he licked a stripe along the underside of Draco's cock, drawing forth a loud, breathy moan from the boy underneath him. Harry took the head into his mouth and sucked. The taste was bitter, but not completely unpleasant. He took as much of it into his mouth as he possibly could, which, admittedly, wasn't much.  
>"Harry," Draco said, his voice strained. "If you don't stop—" Harry released Draco's erection with a crude, wet pop, and kissed his hip. He moved off of Draco and fumbled with the bed-side drawer, finding the lube.<p>

He uncapped it and poured some onto his fingers before closing it and dropping it on the sheets. Draco pulled his legs up to his chest, his arms underneath his knees, his thighs spread apart. His skin was flushed a delicious pink, and Harry felt his stomach flop. He pressed a kiss to the arch of Draco's foot as he ran a finger across Draco's pucker. He slid a finger in, and his body began to heat up even further as he watched his finger disappear, inch by inch into his boyfriend.

Draco squrimed underneath him, biting his lip hard as Harry began to move his finger. Another kiss was pressed to his foot, and he fought the urge to laugh. The want was thrown to the wind moments later as Harry brushed his prostate with his long fingers, and Draco moaned loudly. Harry pushed a second finger past Draco's ring of muscles and scissored them, and Draco tossed his head back and forth, breathing harshly.

"Harry, please, God. _Please_," Draco begged, rolling his hips against Harry's hand. Harry removed his fingers and slicked up his erection before settling between Draco's legs. He pressed against Draco's entrance, breathing through his nose, trying not to sink in completely. The pressure all around him was completely overwhelming, and by the time his hips met Draco's, he could barely remember how to breathe.

Draco let his legs go, and he wrapped them around Harry's waist, pulling him even deeper. Willing himself not to come before he could do anything properly, Harry pulled back slightly before thrusting forward. Draco moaned, his eyes fluttering closed. Harry set a rhythmic pace, and Draco lifted his hips to meet each thrust. When Harry nudged Draco's prostate, Draco dug his heels so hard into Harry's back that they both knew he would have bruises the next morning.

Moments later, Draco was arching off of the bed, heels planted firmly against Harry's lower back. His hand covered his mouth as he shouted Harry's name and came hard. The feeling of Draco's muscles clenching and unclenching rapidly around him sent Harry into his own orgasm, and his vision went white. His arms began to shake, and he pulled out and collapsed next to Draco, who was breathing like he had run an intense marathon. Harry's breathing was no better.

They lay in silence for several moments, recovering the ability to breathe and think normally. Harry felt the tingle of magic as Draco cast a cleaning charm, removing the sweat and mess from his skin. Harry pulled Draco flush against him, nestling their hips together, spooning them effectively. He pressed a kiss to the back of Draco's neck.

He wanted to say it, so bad, but he knew he couldn't. He was terrified to lose Draco, and he couldn't open himself up like that, just to have him taken away. Harry buried his face in Draco's shoulder and breathed in his scent. His school shirt smelled just like him. Draco fell asleep minutes later, but Harry lay awake for hours, wondering just how long it would be until Draco was ripped from him.


	28. Chapter 28

_I'm so sorry that I haven't updated for two+ weeks. I've been having lots of issues in my personal life lately that have been causing severe writer's block. I feel horrible that I've left you guys hanging with this story. I'll try to update more, but the chapters will be extremely short if I do._

Chapter Twenty Eight

The next morning Harry had woken to find an empty bed and sheets that smelled like Draco. He'd groaned into the silence and closed his eyes, wondering just what the hell was going on with his boyfriend. He understood that Draco didn't want to be trapped in a dorm room with five Gryffindors first thing in the morning, but he would usually wake Harry up to say goodbye before he departed.

When Harry came down for breakfast, his friends could tell that something was off with his mood once more. Things had been rocky when it came to Harry's mood lately, but today Harry looked like there was a metaphorical black cloud hanging over his head. He looked like someone had told him that Quidditch was cancelled for life.

"Harry, what's wrong?" Hermione asked as she scraped butter on her toast. Harry watched her do so, nausea building from the sound of the knife scraping across the bread.

"Just had a bad morning, that's all," he told her, and it wasn't a complete lie. His night had been bloody fantastic. Waking up to find himself completely and totally alone without even so much as a note saying 'Bye' put a damper on what most likely would have been a very nice morning.

Hermione looked to Ron for confirmation. Ron was watching Harry carefully, knowing that Harry was in one of his moods where if you said the wrong thing at the wrong time, you might just lose your head. He was scarfing down his breakfast as fast as possible, apparently terrified that it would happen at any moment.

At that precise moment, Draco came slinking into the Great Hall behind a group of Ravenclaws. He avoided Harry's eyes and kept his head down. Harry frowned and watched him make his way over to the Slytherin table and sit down in between Blaise and Pansy. Blaise put his hand on Draco's shoulder, and Harry nearly bent his fork.

"Are you all right?" Hermione asked in surprise at Harry's sudden change in mood. Harry tossed his cutlery onto his empty plate and stood up.

"I'm fine," he ground out before storming off. Hermione looked at Ron, bewildered. Ron was still stuffing his face, slower now.

"What in the devil was that about?"

"Mauflay's a hnick," he said around a mouthful of pancakes, and Hermione whapped him with her hand, although he wasn't sure if it was for the implied profanity or for speaking with his mouth full.

Over the next several days, every time that Harry even looked at Draco, he would hurry off in another direction. Harry had begun to watch the Marauder's Map to try and find out just what the bleeding hell was going on with Draco, and he could never find him on the damn thing. Every now and then he would spot him somewhere in the seventh floor corridor, which struck him as extremely odd, but he reckoned that he was most likely just doing his Prefect rounds. He didn't know much about the Prefect duties, but he did find it a tad bit strange that Draco never seemed to patrol any place other than the seventh floor.

Two weeks after the last time he had done so much as even speak to Draco, he found himself sitting in the Common Room, his head in Hermione's lap as she stroked his hair slowly. He was completely fed up with Draco ignoring him and slipping away from him every time he tried to talk to him. He was sure that he had done something wrong this time.

"You guys didn't have a fight or anything?" Hermione asked as she continued to card her fingers through his thick black locks. "Nothing that you can remember doing to potentially upset him?"  
>Harry shook his head. "No. We both apologized for being prats, and we... well, we made up." Harry blushes several shades of red, and Hermione purses her lips and looks as if she's ready to launch into a harangue about safe sex. Harry rushes to continue his train of thought. "We fell asleep afterwards and when I woke up he was gone and we haven't spoken since. We didn't fight, and I didn't say anything stupid to him, Hermione. I don't know what's going on." Harry sighed and covered his eyes with his arm. He wanted to know what was going on before he exploded from the stress.<p> 


	29. Chapter 29

_Alright, you may burn me at the stake if you wish._

_Note: Some of the text comes from Chapter Twelve of Half-Blood Prince. I've added a little bit to the text myself, but the chunk of text in italics is mainly from Silver and Opals_.

Chapter Twenty Nine

"Well," Ron said stoically, "that was eventful." Hermione shot daggers at him as he pulled off his ruby-red knit cap. It clashed with his hair on several different levels. "What?" he demanded, plopping unceremoniously into one of the three poufy armchairs by the fire. "I didn't say it was fun."

The trio had just gotten back from Professor McGonagall's office. They had been there since three, and it was nearing five now. On their way back from Hogsmeade – which they were very happy to get out of, considering that it was sleeting like mad – they had witnessed a row between Katie Bell and her friend Leanne. They had been fighting over a small brown parcel that Katie had been carrying, and eventually they had ripped it open. All hell had broken loose immediately.

_At once, Katie had rose into the air gracefully, her arms outstretched as if she were about to take flight. There was something wrong... something eerie about it, though. Her hair was whipped about by the fierce wind; her eyes were closed but her face was devoid of any expression. Katie then let out a terrible scream that made Harry's stomach turn over. Her eyes opened wide and all that could be seen in them was sheer terror._

Eventually the trio and Leanne had gotten Katie back to the ground, but it had been hard to hold onto her, for she was nearly seizing. Harry had run for help and found Hagrid, much to his relief.

Lying next to Katie was the package she had been carrying, but it had been torn. The contents were now fully visible. It was an ornate, opal necklace, one of which Harry had seen before in Borgin and Burkes during his second year.

Katie Bell had been cursed.

"Harry, aren't you going to take off your wet clothes?" Hermione asked, combing through her hair with her fingers, trying to undo the knots that had been caused by the wind. She wasn't getting very far.

Harry jumped slightly – he had been spacing off, thinking about the day's hectic events. "Oh, yeah." He removed his red Gryffindor hat and unwound his scarf before taking off his nearly sodden cloak. He really hated October.

Harry soon decided that he hated November as well. For what had to be the eighth time that day, he watched as Hermione hurried past Ron, who was currently wrapped around Lavender Brown. He loved Ron, he really did, but the guy was being a total arse.

Harry heaved a sigh and got up from his table in the corner of the common room. He could no more concentrate than Crookshanks could row a boat. He hurried after Hermione and nearly tripped coming out of the portrait hole. Lucky for him, Hermione hadn't gone far and she saw his mishap. She gave him a watery smile.

The two walked down the corridor until they neared an alcove. Hermione sat down on the bench that lined the wall. Harry sat next to her, and immediately, she leaned her head on his shoulder.

"How do you do it?" she asked, sniffling slightly.

"Do what?" Harry replied, wrapping his arm around her shoulder.

"Act like none of this bothers you, like you're not falling apart inside when Draco ignores you. Act like you're still whole inside even though you know that you're falling apart on the inside." Harry tried his best not to cringe. There was an unspoken agreement that neither Ron nor Hermione mentioned Draco's name.

"I have no choice, Hermione," Harry admitted. "I can either lie in bed all day, wallowing in my sorrow, or I can go out there and be an actual person. I don't want to be a person, but I have to. I already know what will happen if I go the other route, and I can't put myself through that again," he finished quietly.

Hermione kissed his cheek. "I'm proud of you, Harry."

"Me, too."


	30. Regarding Hiatus

**ABOUT HIATUS**

Okay, I am so, so sorry that I haven't updated this story in months. I've been going through some really, really tough mental health problems. I was hospitalized in September and February, and in May I'm going to long-term treatment. It's been a really, really rough 5 months or so. I can't really read any more because my concentration is shot, and I _really_ can't write anymore because I have no muse whatsoever. It frustrates me to no end because I love to write so much, but I can't.

I _will_ finish this story, even if I'm 100 when I get it done. I will get it finished one day. It is my pride and joy, and I really thank all my readers for reading it. I'm hoping that when I get out of residential treatment, I'll have better luck writing.


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